


We're Fighters, Every One of Us

by hold_on_a_sex



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Disability, Epilepsy, Lingerie, M/M, Seizures, men in women's underwear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:39:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 163,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hold_on_a_sex/pseuds/hold_on_a_sex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean O'Gorman has epilepsy, nice cast-mates, and a wonderful boyfriend.</p><p>And sex. He has a lot of sex. Good for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean O’Gorman felt, in a word, awful. In more than one word, he felt so fucking awful that he was contemplating running away from the set and playing hooky, despite the fact that was not an option in his line of work.

“Come on, Dean, please eat something,” Aidan wheedled from the seat next to him, pushing a plate of chicken, potatoes, and broccoli in front of the New Zealander. “I know you said you aren’t hungry, but you haven’t eaten all day. We’re working hard out there, your body needs fuel.”

“I don’t want it,” Dean mumbled tiredly. “Not only am I not hungry, but this fucking medicine is giving me hell, and I’m not going to eat something before I go back to work because…” He sighed. “Things come out the other end quickly and unpleasantly.”

Aidan wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ew,” he commented, finally moving the plate away from his grumpy boyfriend. “Maybe you should call your doctor,” he tried tentatively. Dean was very snappish that day due to a lack of food and drink, and he didn’t want to get his head bitten off for this.

“I know I should,” the older man agreed tiredly. “What can he do, though? I can’t stop taking it, but waiting til I can get a different medication will be crap. I’m not supposed to do strenuous stuff when trying new medicine, and our next break is months away.” He glanced up when he heard someone yelling for them to get back to the set of Mirkwood. “Fuck,” he groused, standing up and waiting for Aidan.

At their next five-minute break, Dean felt close to collapse. He wasn’t even sure how many hours had passed since lunch. This was turning out to be an absolutely horrible afternoon--he was woozy, his head hurt, and something on the set smelled awful. He sat heavily on the ground, head in his hands, and didn’t bother to look up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he heard a voice, however, he shifted so he could see the speaker.

“You need to go to your trailer, eat something, and sleep,” Jed said bluntly. “Don’t argue with me,” he added as the younger Kiwi opened his mouth. “Graham is already talking to PJ. Adam is trying to find some chicken soup. Richard will probably read you bedtime stories, if you want. We all just want you to stop looking like you’re about to pass out and die on us.”

“Fine,” Dean muttered, then wrinkled his nose. “What the hell is that smell, and can we… I don’t know, turn it off or something?”

Jed furrowed his brow. “What smell?” he asked for clarification, sniffing at the air. It smelled a little gross from all the sweaty people inside, but no worse than usual. “There isn’t anything smellier than usual around here.”

“Oh,” Dean said in a small voice, suddenly putting together the clues. Fuck, his new medication was not worth all the side effects if this was still about to happen at work.

Jed had turned to see if Graham had gotten PJ to come over yet when he heard a sickening thunk behind him. Terrified, he turned around.

Dean was on the ground, body jerking with huge movements. “Dean!” Jed yelled, even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. It wasn’t like the younger man could just snap himself out of a seizure with a yell of his name, was it? The yell did have the advantage of bringing a people running, though, with Aidan, PJ, and Graham at the front of the incoming group.

Aidan reached them first, immediately dropping to his knees by his boyfriend and yanking off Kili’s coat, which he stuck under Dean’s head like a pillow. “Hey, babe, it’s okay,” he whispered, more out of habit than anything else. The words were a comfort to himself, since Dean wasn’t conscious to hear them. “You’re doing great with your breathing, so great. You’ll be finished in a couple minutes and it’ll be okay,” he continued, needing to talk to keep himself from panicking--Dean’s number one rule was not to panic.

“How are you so calm?” Richard asked somewhat hysterically from the small knot of actors and crew that had formed. His eyes widened as he realized they had skipped a very important step he had learned in some first aid class years ago--thank God he could remember it. “Mark, we need an ambulance!”

“No,” Aidan said sharply, glancing up. “He doesn’t need an ambulance.” He left it at that, turning his attention back to Dean and petting gently at the older man’s hair.

“I think he might have hit his head when he started it,” Jed said quietly, chewing at his lip as he looked at Graham and PJ. “I was facing that way,” he continued, pointing to explain, “but I heard it.” He chanced a glance over at Dean and instantly tore his gaze away. He felt like it was wrong to look, with how exposed the younger man was like this. “He said before he smelled something?”

“It’s an aura, he has them every time,” Aidan said from his position on the floor. He glanced up when nobody responded and rolled his eyes at the stares of the cast. “You’re all grown men, haven’t you heard of epilepsy?”

Adam was the one who spoke up. “Not in terms of Dean, we haven’t,” he said quietly. “Aidan, does this happen a lot? I had no idea, I--”

“He didn’t want you all to know, because everyone freaks out when they do,” Aidan explained, watching closely as Dean stopped jerking around on the ground. He bent and kissed the older man’s temple and whispered some encouraging words before straightening up to continue his explanation to a rather hurt looking group of dwarrows. “Look, you’re his mates, but can you honestly tell me you would have still taken him to bars to get pissed if you knew?” he asked. “He wants to be part of the group, and most people treat him differently when they know about his seizures, so he doesn’t tell.” When everyone kept looking at him expectantly, he sighed in frustration. “If you want to know more, ask him later. It’s his business to tell you, not mine. Okay?” He glared a little at them until they all got the message and dispersed.

Thirty minutes later, Dean let Aidan help him to the makeup trailer to change out of their costumes and get their wigs and prosthetics off, the elder sporting a terrible postictal headache and feeling nauseated. “Did the others see?” he asked quietly as they each undressed, finally feeling like his thoughts were clear enough he could make a sentence.

“Yeah,” Aidan said simply. “They were all panicking. I just told them you have epilepsy, but nothing else. I’m sure they’ll all ask you a ton of shit tomorrow.”

Dean nodded, slowly taking off his pants. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Why’d it have to be in costume? I don’t want to make some poor wardrobe worker wash the piss out of Fili’s twenty fucking layers.” Exhausted, he dropped the pants on the floor. “At least when it’s my own clothes, I deal with it.” He looked over at Aidan, chewing his lip a little. “Nobody said shit about that, right?”

“Of course not,” Aidan said soothingly, buckling his belt. Now fully dressed, he turned his attention to helping Dean--okay, in reality, he was 25% helping Dean get off his costume and 75% just touching and kissing his boyfriend reassuringly, but he was pretty sure comfort counted as help. “I don’t think anyone even noticed. If they did, they won’t laugh. It wasn’t your fault.” He carefully put all of Dean’s costume pieces aside and gave a little assistance to the older man with getting dressed, and then helped him stand up. “Let’s go to your trailer and I’ll make you dinner?”

“You’re amazing,” Dean mumbled, leaning heavily on Aidan as they walked toward the living trailers. Ever since he has started having seizures at thirteen, he was always astounded to find out that they only lasted three minutes or so--they took so much energy, it felt like he had run a marathon.

Aidan snorted. “After you’ve tasted my cooking, you might take that back,” he teased gently as he guided Dean up the couple of steps and into his trailer. They were both rather shocked at what they found inside.

Graham McTavish was standing in Dean’s tiny kitchen, and something smelled delicious. “Hi,” the Scotsman began, smiling. “I hope you don’t mind? Peter let me in. We just thought it would be nice if you two didn’t have to cook, you know.”

Dean grinned back weakly. “McTavish, if I wasn’t committed to a certain lanky Irish mess, I’d marry you for this,” he proclaimed, practically falling into a chair. “Shit, I still might. Aidan, how do you feel about being my mistress?”

“I’d prefer to be your one and only, sorry,” Aidan said, smiling widely as he made Dean a cup of tea--bless Graham, he’d had the kettle on and everything. “I’m a selfish prick,” he added in explanation as he handed Dean the warm mug. “Need anything else before we eat?” he asked, speaking quietly so this could remain private. Thankfully, Graham was a tactful man who decided at that moment to hum to himself as he turned away to stir a pot of soup.

“A kiss would be nice.”

“Yeah, you’re feeling a lot better, aren’t you?

* * *

 

At lunch the next day, Dean sat down at the table with Adam, Aidan, Richard, Dean, Jed, and Orlando, and asked, “If I tell you about my epilepsy, will you all stop staring at me like you want to ask but can’t?”

Multiple voices started voicing apologies, but Dean cut them off. “I’m just messing with you. I don’t mind explaining, you just need to tell me what you want to know.”

There was an awkward silence, as nobody wanted to go first, but eventually Richard asked, “What’s the cause, then?”

“It’s called temporal lobe epilepsy,” Dean began, happy the first question was one he had been answering for years and could probably explain in his sleep. “It started when I was thirteen. It’s hereditary, but it comes from recessive genes, so I’m the only one in my family. It caused a lesion that causes what’s called Generalized Tonic-Clonic Seizures, but most people use the word grand mal,” he explained. Whenever people were curious, he gave them a lot of information--he preferred that to a bunch of follow-up questions. “Basically, it’s what you saw today. They’re usually controlled by medication pretty well, but I forgot to take my medication on time yesterday because the side-effects made me miserable.”

“You usually have a couple a week at night, when your medication starts wearing off,” Aidan supplemented, looking to his boyfriend for confirmation that it was okay to share that information.

Dean nodded in agreement, then waited for another question.

Adam cleared his throat, looking serious. “Dean,” he began in a grave tone, “why did Aidan get to know before all of us?”

Before Dean could respond, Aidan butted in. “I’m prettier.”


	2. Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Thanks to everyone who read and/or commented :) I've been having a lot of health problems since starting this, so chapters will take a while. Also, sorry this one didn't get to the fuckin'. Soon, I promise.

Location shooting, as it turned out, had its ups and downs. On the one hand, the area they were in was utterly breathtaking and Dean got to take his boyfriend on romantic walks in the New Zealand sunset. On the other, they were in the arse-end of nowhere and getting to a town was difficult, leading to the current situation.

“Um, Peter?” Dean said, uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he tapped the director on the shoulder. “I have a bit of a problem.”

Peter turned from the script he was marking up to look at his fellow Kiwi. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking Dean up and down to make sure the younger man wasn’t hurt in an obvious way.

“I sort of ran out of medicine this morning,” Dean replied hesitantly, a bit embarrassed that he had fucked up. He was supposed to be an adult, for God’s sake! Adults didn’t just forget to refill prescriptions because they were in the countryside. “I didn’t realize it was running low because I thought I had another bottle, but I didn't and, uh, it’s gone. I have no idea where the closest pharmacy is. If I did I would send Aidan, except I don’t really want to because I’m fucked for the next little bit and I really want him to be around to make me feel better, you know?”

“I’ll send someone out, Dean, you can calm down,” Peter said, noting the tinge of hysteria creeping into Dean’s voice toward the end of his explanation. “Just write down the details here,” he added, thrusting a notebook into the smaller man’s hands. “Which pharmacy, what medication, all that.” He waited until he got the paper back and read over it quickly. “Don’t worry, okay?” he said gently, once he was sure he had all the necessary information. “It’s too late now for someone to get to a town and pick up your meds, but I’ll have someone head out first thing tomorrow. I know it isn’t ideal, but will you be okay for maybe eighteen hours?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah,” he mumbled, mentally trying to calculate how many seizures he was likely to have in that time frame. “I’ll hole up in my trailer, I guess,” he added. “I don’t want all my friends to see me at my worst.” Despite the fact his medication practically eliminated his seizures, Dean’s epilepsy was pretty severe. He remembered the horrible time before he was properly medicated. His mother would cry as she watched her son seize uncontrollably and painfully for hours every night, and he was pulled out of school for a few weeks because he couldn’t make it through a single class without seizures.

“I’m really sorry, Dean,” Peter said sincerely, clapping a hand on the actor’s shoulder.

“It’s my own fault,” the blond replied, trying for a smile but giving more of a grimace. “I should have noticed my prescription running low.” He gave Peter an awkward wave. “Thanks for doing this. I’ll see you later!” He then walked away, headed directly for his trailer, sending a text to Aidan along the way so his boyfriend would know he was skipping out on dinner in the catering tent. He wasn’t sure when his last dose of medication would wear off, and, as he had told Peter, he didn’t relish the idea of his friends watching him jerk on the ground and piss himself. No, that was a sight that only his boyfriend would see.

When he got to his trailer, he was surprised to see that the lights inside had been turned on. Maybe Aidan had gone in to change clothes before dinner, he reasoned, opening the door and toeing off his shoes before looking around.

Aidan was in the kitchen, humming (badly) to himself as he stirred something in a pan on the stove. “Hello, gorgeous,” he exclaimed when he saw Dean. “I got your text, which was actually really lucky, because I forgot to tell you to skip dinner because I’m cooking!”

“I can see that,” Dean replied, amusement clear in his voice. “I need to talk to you for a second, though, okay?” He waited until he got a nod before continuing. “I was a total fucking idiot and ran out of my medication today, so I don’t have an evening dose. Peter’s sending someone to the closest town tomorrow to pick some up, but I’m going to be off medication until tomorrow afternoon, probably. I’d like if you were around to help me, but I understand if it’s too much, I know it’s not fun to watch or anything, but…”

“Of course I’ll stay, you idiot,” Aidan cut in, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’m not just going to fuck you over and say ‘oh, nah, I’ll let you deal with that on your own’ or whatever. Just give me an idea of what it will be like, yeah?”

Dean smiled widely, feeling a little better that Aidan was willing to stay with him while he was a total mess. “Well, I’ve got pretty severe epilepsy, so it won’t be pretty,” he began, taking a seat at the kitchen table as Aidan continued to stir. “You might not get a lot of sleep tonight. When I first started having seizures, half of my night was spent sleeping and the other half was spent seizing. It’s terrifying for other people, according to my family. I’m nearly constantly either in the middle of a seizure or having those shitty after-effects, so I’ll be approximately no fun at all.” He paused as he tried to think of anything else to add. “I shouldn’t walk around too much, since I could fall down and concuss myself or something when I have a seizure, and I need to avoid caffeine and alcohol because those can trigger seizures.”

“I have to deal with you without caffeine in the morning? Gross,” Aidan said with a teasing grin. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it. I’ll spoil you rotten between seizures, you know. Kisses, stupid movies, reading aloud, snuggles, your favorite foods, lots of ginger ale…”

“Ginger ale?”

“My mum gave me ginger ale for every kind of sickness,” Aidan replied, turning a little pink. “I firmly believe it always works. I’ll have you know I got through colds and stomach flu with that shit.”

Dean got up and gave Aidan a little kiss on the cheek. “Well, if your mum says it works, I guess I’ll try it,” he said with a giggle. “Are you going to make me crappy Chinese delivery meals somehow? Because you just promised me my favorite foods, and, well…”

“Yeah, that was an exaggeration,” Aidan told his boyfriend cheerfully. “I’m actually just going to make a lot of pasta.” He wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist and nodded down at the pot and pan on the stove. “See? Tonight is spaghetti. Tomorrow, I’ll do… other shapes of pasta?” He shrugged. “You shacked up with me knowing full well I can’t cook for shit, so you’re going to have to deal with this. Sorry, babe.”

“How long ‘til it’s ready?”

“Fifteen minutes, maybe? The water’s about to boil.”

“Great,” Dean said, glancing at his watch. “I’ll take a shower so that I’m done with that before my last dose wears off. I’ll keep it short, okay?”

Aidan gave Dean another brief kiss before smacking him gently on the butt as the older man walked toward the trailer’s cramped bathroom. He turned back to his cooking, but listened carefully as the water started; he knew he needed to hear if Dean had a seizure in the shower and crashed to the ground.

* * *

 

The shower and dinner both passed without a hitch; it wasn’t until Dean and Aidan were both in pajama pants, curled up on the couch watching some wonderfully awful made-for-TV movie, that the inevitable happened.

Aidan was trying to decide if making popcorn would be worth the effort when he felt Dean jerk against him. _Shit._ He jumped up and grabbed for Dean’s shoulders to carefully lower him to the ground. He almost succeeded, but the older man was strong when seizing, and jerked out of his grip at the last second. Aidan cringed in sympathetic pain when his boyfriend hit the ground. He snatched a pillow from the couch to shove under Dean’s head, and then sat next to him, waiting and listening to the Kiwi’s strained breathing.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he whispered. He always talked to Dean during seizures. His boyfriend had smiled and called him sweet when he admitted to it, so he kept doing it. Though it didn’t help Dean at all, since he wasn’t hearing it, Aidan found that speaking in calm tones helped him to keep himself calm. “You’re going to get through this, okay? I know it’ll hurt afterwards but I’ll get you some warm pajamas and we can snuggle up and I’ll tell you all the reasons you are amazing, okay? You can lie on the couch and drink tea while I get everything cleaned up, because that’s what I’m here for, baby.”

He stroked a gentle hand down Dean’s shaking arm. “I’ll make peppermint tea. That’s good for when you feel sick after, isn’t it? I won’t even force you to have ginger ale. If we had some, I would, but I’m not leaving you to go get any.” He paused for a moment, and let out a sigh of relief as Dean’s body stopped jerking and twitching on the ground. “There we go. I’ll stay right here until you can sit up and talk, okay?”

Dean didn’t say anything quite yet, but he moved one hand a couple inches to touch Aidan’s. He was still in a fog, unable to really understand what was being said to him, but the tone was soft and comforting. He could feel the headache and nausea starting to set in, and he knew he should get up and take something for them. He cracked his eyes open with a wordless groan and looked up at Aidan. “Tea?” he croaked hopefully.

“What’s your name?” Aidan asked, ignoring the request until he was sure Dean was fully cognizant once more.

“Dean Lance O’Gorman,” the older man replied tiredly, used to this mental test by now. “You’re my boyfriend. I’m back to normal, I promise. Tea?”

Aidan nodded and got up. “It’ll be a few minutes,” he called out as he switched on their electric kettle. “Do you want some painkillers?”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, closing his eyes again and pressing his hands to his face in an attempt to squeeze the headache out of his skull. “Can you get me new clothes?” he asked, feeling a large, cooling wet patch in his pants.

“Of course,” Aidan replied, setting a glass of water and two tablets of ibuprofen on the ground next to his boyfriend. “Do you just want pants, or a shirt too?”

Dean wiggled a little to try to feel if the back of his shirt was wet. “Yeah, both would be good,” he said after a moment. “I’m a little cold, so get warm clothes, yeah?”

Aidan bent down and kissed Dean’s forehead. “Whatever you want,” he promised, and then disappeared to the bedroom to dig through his boyfriend’s dresser for clean clothes. He returned within a minute, carrying boxers, flannel pants with penguins printed on them, and a long-sleeved shirt. “I like the penguins pants,” he commented cheerfully as he knelt next to Dean and helped him pull off his soiled clothes. “Do you want a quick shower before putting these on?”

“I should, but I don’t want to seize in there,” Dean said miserably. “I’m sitting in a puddle of my own piss. I don’t want to put those on. That would be fucking disgusting. I don’t know. I…” he trailed off, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself down.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Aidan whispered, petting Dean’s hair gently. “I’ll get in the shower with you so you’ll be safe, and we’ll just be in and out. You’ll be clean in no time, okay?” He knew that Dean was confused, tired, and achy at the moment, and tended to get a little more emotional that usual after a seizure, so he wanted to make things as easy as possible. “Can you stand up to go to the shower with me?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yeah.”

Dean groaned unhappily but grabbed Aidan’s proffered arm and levered himself up with some help from the Irishman. “Okay. Let’s do this,” he said, throwing his arm around Aidan’s shoulders for support. Though he didn’t experience full paralysis after seizures, he sometimes had to deal with Todd’s paresis making him a little weak. “Shouldn’t we get my clothes?” he asked, but in all honesty he wasn’t that keen on stopping their journey to the shower to get his laundry.

“I’ll get it later,” Aidan promised, holding Dean up as they moved slowly towards the bathroom. “I’ll do laundry tonight while you relax. I should throw in what I’m wearing too.” He could feel some of the wetness from his boyfriend’s body seeping into his clothes, so he knew they would need a wash too.

“Don’t do it tonight,” the blond suggested, letting Aidan drag him into the bathroom before collapsing onto the toilet lid to sit as he watched his boyfriend start the shower. “Do it once I’m back on my medication. There’s going to be a lot of laundry by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Aidan said, thinking about how best to keep their current laundry from getting smelly until the following day. “I’ll put our stuff in a bin bag until then.” He stuck his hand in the shower spray for a moment to test the temperature. “It’s pretty warm, now. Ready to get in?” he asked as he removed his own clothes.

Dean nodded and stood slowly with a bit of help, using Aidan as support as he stepped into the shower stall. It was a tight squeeze when the younger man got in behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, but he liked it. “I’m sorry I fucked up our weekend,” he mumbled, leaning back against Aidan and letting his tired eyes slip closed.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a million times worse for you than it is for me, so don’t apologize.”

“Yeah,” Dean said softly. He had been trying to avoid thinking about how awful this was going to be, but it was unavoidable. “I haven’t been off my meds in like twenty years,” he admitted. “I remember how it was when I was a teenager and it was pretty shit. I don’t want to go through that again, even if it’s for less than a fucking day.”

Aidan kept one hand around Dean as the other reached out for the soap, which he poured onto his boyfriend’s back before spreading it around, washing the older man from shoulders to knees and the doing the front as well. “I’ll spend all of Sunday making up for this,” he offered, kissing Dean’s neck. “Seriously. Massages, sex, lap-dances, shutting up for more than two seconds at a time, using my Irish Catholic guilt powers to someone to cook you good food… anything you want, really.”

Dean laughed tiredly. “You do have impressive guilt powers,” he agreed, remembering some of the times Aidan had convinced their friends to do various things for him through the power of guilt and puppy eyes. “Can we get out? I think I need to sit down. Or lie down. I need to not stand.

Immediately, Aidan nodded and turned off the water. He carefully maneuvered a pliable Dean out of the shower stall and sat him down on the toilet, handing him a towel before starting to dry himself off. “Do you want help?” he asked when he realized Dean was barely moving, just rubbing the towel lightly on his chest.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled. “I’m tired as fuck.”

“Here, I’ll dry you off and then help you to the couch,” Aidan offered, starting to rub the towel over his boyfriend’s body. “You can put on your clothes while I get dressed and finish making your tea, and then you can rest a bit and I’ll clean things up. Does that sound good?”

Dean nodded. As much as he hated that his boyfriend cleaned up the mess _he_ had made (however unintentional and unavoidable it was), he was too exhausted to even pretend he was going to clean it up himself. “Thanks, babe,” he mumbled. “I’ll keep part of the couch warm for you, okay?"

Aidan laughed. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions Todd's Paresis, which is a (somewhat rare) aftereffect of seizures that can cause paralysis of a limb or weakness.


	3. More weekend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to quickly talk about the fact this chapter focuses on Aidan being a "perfect boyfriend" and his support and shit. This is because Dean's perspective at this point is basically unconscious during seizures and painful after-effects between them. 
> 
> Since writing the first chapter of this, I have been diagnosed with epilepsy (albeit with really different seizures than the ones shown in this story), and I don't want anyone to get the idea that Aidan is super special here for supporting Dean, or that Dean is a burden on him. Dean is an amazing person in this and it doesn't make Aidan a good person to date someone with a disability. So yeah. This chapter is a lot from Aidan's perspective, but I don't want people to think that he is being so nice for dating someone with epilepsy. He's just dating an awesome hot dude. Who happens to have epilepsy.
> 
> Also, rating change. There are penises in this one.

By six o’clock in the morning, Aidan had given up on even trying to sleep. Instead, he was eating leftover chicken from the back of Dean’s fridge with one hand, and using the other to pet through his boyfriend’s sweaty hair soothingly. The bedroom was a mess, with blankets on the ground; Dean, who had been sweating profusely after multiple seizures, had thrown them there and neither he nor Aidan felt any draw to move them. At the moment, Aidan couldn’t tell if the older man was awake, dozing, or passed out from the exhaustion of his muscles contracting violently and repeatedly multiple times throughout the night.

He knew that Dean hated pity, but he couldn’t stop feeling it. It was sad enough to watch Dean deal with this as a grown man, but to imagine a scared and tired thirteen-year-old… he had to force himself to stop thinking of it, or he would have gotten a little teary. He put his chicken on the bedside table and picked up his book before snuggling a little closer to Dean and kissing his cheek. He was about to start reading when he heard a grunt next to him. “Are you okay?” he whispered, not wanting to wake the older man if he was just mumbling in his sleep.

“M’cold,” Dean slurred out, clearly not fully awake. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes as he spoke, merely turning to face where his boyfriend’s voice was coming from. “Where’re the blankets?”

“I’ll get them,” Aidan said softly, kissing Dean’s temple before untangling himself from his boyfriend and getting out of bed to get their covers--a sheet, a soft fleece blanket, and a scratchy wool throw which Aidan had brought from Ireland and which Dean refused to let touch his skin due to itchiness. “How do you feel?” the younger man asked, putting the fleece over Dean first so that his boyfriend would have the comfort of a soft blanket.

“Cold,” Dean muttered. “M’head hurts.” He groaned loudly and cracked his eyes open to watch Aidan put the other blankets at the foot of the bed for easy access if they needed more warmth. “Fuck, I hate everything,” he grouched. “Well, except for you,” he added hastily. “I love you and shit, but, God, I am so tired and hurt so much I want to sleep for seventy years.”

Aidan smiled as he got back in bed and under the covers with his personal favorite Kiwi. “Well, after you get your medicine, you can sleep the rest of the weekend if you want,” he assured the older man. “Do you want anything to eat or drink right now? I’ve got chicken from Wednesday night here, but I can get you something else, too, if you want.”

Dean shook his head. “The thought of food makes me want to hurl right now,” he said bluntly. “What time is it?”

“Six,” Aidan informed him after a look at the clock on his phone. “You go back to sleep if you can, babe. Let me know if you need anything.”

“You should sleep too.”

“Nah, I’m good,” the brunet replied, grabbing his book again. “I’ll probably get up in an hour and make real breakfast and shit.” He settled down to read, but realized he could do with some tea. A quick look told him Dean was either dozing or asleep already, so he carefully got up with as little movement as possible and tiptoed to the kitchen. He filled their electric kettle up with water from the sink and started it heating up, and then half-heartedly doodled on the back of a previous week’s schedule. He was so worried about Dean right then; he had never seen his boyfriend in his current state. It hadn’t really hit him how bad the New Zealander’s epilepsy really was. He just hoped that whatever pharmacy Peter was using to get Dean’s medication opened early, and that whoever was sent to pick it up would get there and come back as soon as possible.

He was in the midst of mental calculations and estimates of the earliest and latest that Dean’s medication would arrive when he heard a horrifying noise: the sound of a body hitting wood hard. “Fuck!” Aidan gasped, abandoning the kitchen in a quick dash for the bedroom. He was relieved to see that the noise had come from Dean’s head hitting the headboard, rather than from the older man falling to the floor, but it was still worrisome. “Oh, baby,” he whispered sympathetically, sitting on the bed near Dean and trying to ignore how scary it was for him to feel the bed jerking along with his boyfriend’s body.

Luckily, this seizure was a short one and it was only thirty seconds before Dean’s body relaxed and the only movement Aidan saw was his chest heaving. The after-effects didn’t seem to be as bad, either, as Dean opened his eyes within ten minutes. “Well,” he mumbled, already seeming more aware and alert than he was after longer seizures. “The good news is, my body is too tired to even put energy into seizures,” he joked weakly.

“How do you feel?” Aidan asked, pulling the blanket off his boyfriend both to help him cool off and to check if he needed new clothes. “Other good news,” he added, trying to look on the bright side, “your bladder has no liquid left in it, so you don’t have to put in the effort to change clothes.”

Dean shook his head to indicate that this was not a good thing like Aidan thought. “That means I’m dehydrated,” he explained, using his arms to drag himself into a sitting position. “I probably need to eat, too. Breakfast?”

“I had some water boiling when I heard you start, so I’ll go get you some tea,” Aidan offered.

“No caffeine.”

“Yeah, herbal,” Aidan replied. “What do you want to eat with it? We have some cereal, toaster waffles, or I can make you some toast and jam. Just tell me what you want and I’ll make it appear!”

“Mint tea and toaster waffles?” Dean requested hopefully. “Nothing on the waffles, though, I don’t think I can stomach anything more.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Yell if you need anything more, babe,” the Irishman replied before leaving the room and heading back to the kitchen. There, he was happy to find that the water in the kettle was still nice and hot, so he poured a cup of herbal mint for Dean and a cup of earl grey for himself. He popped a couple of frozen waffles into the toaster, and then grabbed their warm mugs and carried them to the bedroom. He put his tea on the bedside table to wait, and then sat on the bed to hand the other cup to Dean.

“Ta,” Dean said wearily, taking the hot mug by the handle and bringing it to his lips for a quick sip. “Waffles?” he asked, batting his eyelashes teasingly.

“You’re doing great if you’re flirting like that,” Aidan commented happily. “The waffles are in the toaster, and I’m listening for them to pop. Quit your worrying, mister.”

Dean laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, that last one wasn’t as bad, and I’m getting used to the constant feeling shit, so I’ll flirt with you all I want, cutie-butt.”

“Cutie-butt?” Aidan cackled, curling against Dean’s side and nuzzling his neck. “I think shit flirting might be one of your postictal effects, babe. If you ever said that during foreplay, I’d be laughing too hard to actually have sex.”

“Fuck off, I’m exhausted,” Dean shot back, using one hand to play with his boyfriend’s wild curls. “Anyway, this isn’t foreplay. Having sex with me right now would be an awful idea. I can call you all sorts of unsexy names, cuddle muffin.”

Aidan groaned good-naturedly. “God, you are so ridiculous. Wait one second, I think I heard the waffles go,” he added, popping out of bed and dashing off to the craped kitchen. He returned within two minutes holding a paper towel with Dean’s waffles on it.

“You’re a fucking angel,” Dean told his boyfriend, grabbing the waffles and taking a bite before he could think about his nausea. “Do you think we could make this breakfast-in-bed thing happen every day? I’d like that.”

“Hell no,” Aidan said, laughing. “I’m only doing this because your life is shit right now and you deserve something to make up for it. Once you’re able to walk around without worrying about concussing yourself when you seize and fall, you’re back to having to drag my lazy arse out of bed.”

Dean grinned around a mouthful of waffle, then swallowed to reply. “That’s a good point. How the fuck are you up? It isn’t even seven and you’re functional. It’s a little weird to see you up this early and not bitching.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aidan replied, rolling his eyes. “I love you, even when you make fun of me, you know,” he added, sitting with his back against the headboard so he could drink his tea without spilling. “Just a few more hours until they bring your medication. Think you can make it a few more hours?”

“I lived through it when I was a kid, I can live through it now,” Dean said, determined not to feel sorry for himself. “When I get back to normal, though, I want to eat you out and then get a million blow jobs.”

“Dean!” Aidan exclaimed, blushing a bit. He was a little shy about talking about the specifics of their sex life, even in private.

“Will I get what I want?” Dean wheedled, smiling at his red-faced boyfriend.

“Well, yeah,” mumbled the Irishman. “You know you will. I’ll also get your better food than the crap I make, do all your laundry, and buy you beer.”

“Mm, beer,” the older man mumbled happily. “Food and beer can come later, though. After I get that medicine, my schedule’s going to be: nap, sex, food, another nap, more sex, and then drinking.”

Aidan grinned. “Not to malign your sexual prowess, but do you really think you’ll have the energy for two rounds? I’m not the one having seizures and I don’t think I’ll be up for it.”

“Shut up and let me have my fantasy schedule,” Dean said, poking Aidan’s side and sticking his tongue out. “Can you turn off my brain for the next two or three hours so I won’t have another seizure before my medication arrives?” He gulped down the remainder of his cooling tea and finished off one of his waffles before handing the other to Aidan. “I can’t eat anymore, so this one is yours.”

Never one to turn down the offer of food, Aidan finished off the waffle in three bites. “Do you want to try to sleep some more, babe, or do you want to move to the couch and watch a movie or something?”

“Let’s go to the couch for a change of scenery. I’ll nap and you can watch a movie or read or something.” Knowing he would lose all motivation to actually get up if he didn’t do it quickly, Dean swung his legs off the bed and got up slowly. “Can I have an arm?” he asked quickly, feeling that his legs were weak beneath him.

“Of course,” Aidan said, rushing around the bed to hold out an arm for Dean to grab for support. Once Dean assured him he was secure and ready, they made their slow journey out to the couch. “Do you want to sit down or lie down?”

“Can I lie down with my head in your lap?” Dean asked hopefully. “I’m always out like a light when you play with my hair. It’s my kryptonite.” He smiled when Aidan nodded and helped him get situated on the couch before sliding in as his pillow. “I’ll try not crush your balls if I have a seizure while we’re sitting here.”

Aidan blanched a little at the thought, but didn’t move. He had quick reflexes to get away in case of an emergency, and frankly a minor hit to the crotch couldn’t be anything compared to what Dean had been going through for the past twelve hours. “Just let me know if you need anything, Dean.”

Dean nodded, already yawning and snuggling into the couch for a nap.

* * *

 

At ten-fifteen, Aidan was pouring a glass of ginger ale for his boyfriend when there was a small knock on the door.

“It’s Adam,” came a voice from the other side of the door.

“Come in!” Aidan answered, trying to think of how to shoo the other man away politely.

“Hey, uh, Graham and I just got back from the pharmacy,” Adam said as he walked through the door. “I’ve got Dean’s medicine.”

Aidan was going to thank him and take the medicine into the bedroom, but Dean came out at top speed. “Adam, you are a magical man,” he groaned, grabbing the bottle right out of his friend’s hand. He opened it quickly and dumped three pills into his hand, which he immediately threw back and chased with the glass of soda that was on the counter next to Aidan. “Okay, I’m going to crash for an hour so this can kick in, and then I’m going to take a shower. See you later, Adam,” he said, and disappeared back into the bedroom.

“I’m sorry he’s being antisocial right now, but he’s had a rough morning. And a rough night,” Aidan explained guiltily, but Adam shook his head understandingly.

“No, I get it. Do you guys need anything?”

“If you can find someone who cooks well, Dean probably wants to stay here to eat tonight instead of using the energy to go to the catering tent, so we’d appreciate a good meal. The only meal I can cook for him is pasta, but I want to give him something nice,” Aidan told the Englishman. “Any ideas of who could help me cook?”

“I’ll ask around, but I think Graham, Richard, or James’ wife would all be more than happy to help,” Adam answered after a moment’s thought. “I’ll talk to people and then text you when I find someone.”

“Thanks, mate, you’re a lifesaver. I’ll buy you a pint next time we go out, yeah?”

“You don’t have to do that, Aidan,” Adam assured him, shaking his head. “Graham and I had a nice drive through the New Zealand countryside, and we just want Dean to feel okay. I’m going to head out to find someone to cook for you guys tonight, so go check on him.”

“Seriously, Adam. Thank you so bloody much,” Aidan said fervently as he showed the other man to the door. Once he had locked up, he walked over to the bedroom to see how Dean was doing.

The older man was asleep on the bed, on his stomach with his limbs spread out like he was trying to imitate a starfish. Aidan just smiled and didn’t even try to scoot his boyfriend so he could join him in bed. Dean deserved a good nap, so Aidan wasn’t going to disturb him. Instead, he grabbed his phone from where he had left it on the bedside table and stuck it in his pocket before grabbing the garbage bag full of the laundry they had generated in the past eighteen hours. He left the trailer as quietly as he could to head over to the laundry building, where he managed to fit all their clothes as well as a set of sheets into one washer. Once he knew it had started, he tossed the smelly plastic bag into a nearby bin and went back to Dean’s trailer, where the older man was still sleeping.

Aidan sat down on the couch and pulled out his smartphone, playing mindless games until he had to go and switch their laundry. When he returned from that, he was happily surprised to find Dean awake. “Feeling better?” he asked cheerfully when he saw his boyfriend sprawled on the couch, reading.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, putting his magazine down on the end table. “Remember my schedule for once I was medicated again?”

“What?” Aidan asked, genuinely confused.

“Mt schedule was nap, sex, food,” Dean reminded him, smirking. “I had my nap, so you’re needed for the next activity.”

Aidan stared at his boyfriend for a minute. “That might be the least sexy line you’ve used on me yet, including that time you literally just said ‘hey, babe, let’s fuck on the floor,’ which is saying something, because that line was beyond lazy.”

“You promised I could rim you and get a million blowjobs!” the older man protested, sitting up and pulling off his t-shirt. “Come on, it’s been a crap day so far, but if you let me, I can turn it around. Who turns down the offer of oral sex?”

“People who have boyfriends that attempt to logic them into oral sex,” Aidan retorted, but he sat down on the couch next to the Kiwi. “I suppose you could try to get me in the mood, though, if you want,” he offered, leaning over toward his shirtless boyfriend.

Dean grinned widely and pulled Aidan into him, kissing him deeply and sliding a hand under his plaid shirt to pet at his stomach and pinch a nipple. As he expected, he felt and heard his boyfriend groaning into his mouth; Aidan always reacted strongly to nipple play. Dean pulled back from the kiss with a little grin. “I think getting you in the mood is working, isn’t it?” he teased.

“You know damn well it is,” Aidan told him, reaching up to his own chest to undo the buttons of his shirt and slide it off. “You really planning to go down on me, babe?” he asked hopefully, hands drifting towards his belt as waited for confirmation.

“Fuck yes, “ Dean breathed, shoving Aidan’s hands out of the way to attack his boyfriend’s belt and pants with ravenous enthusiasm. “On the couch?” he asked, wanting to be sure this was a comfortable place for the younger man. “I can’t wait, babe, you know I love to eat you out.”

Aidan gasped quietly as Dean managed to undo his pants and shove the down his legs along with his boxers. “Here is fine,” he told the New Zealander hurriedly. “Fuck, just soon, Dean, I’m fucking dying for it.”

With a bit of a laugh, Dean started pulling and pushing Aidan into a good position, yanking his jeans all the way off and pushing his legs up a bit. The younger man was always so responsive and fast to get desperate, and after a shitty twenty-four hours, Dean was right there with him. “God, Aidan,” he groaned, but realized he didn’t really need to say anymore. He got himself situated between the Irishman’s thighs and bent down, feeling Aidan move his legs over his shoulders and lock his ankles between the shorter man’s shoulder blades. With an excited grin, Dean dove right in and began to lick over his boyfriend’s tight hole.

Immediately, Aidan hissed happily and reached down to grab Dean’s hair. “Yeah, that’s it,” he grunted, curling his toes happily as he felt his boyfriend’s tongue press inside slowly. “Where’d you get so good at this?” he asked, and then realized that was a terrible question. “No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to hear about you with other guys,” he added hastily. “I can’t believe you do this for me, babe,” he continued. When he couldn’t see Dean’s face, he tended to keep up a running commentary. While Aidan was no blushing virgin, it still wowed him that his boyfriend actually stuck his tongue into his ass. “Fuck, that’s good,” he gasped when Dean wiggled his tongue in just the right way.

Dean hummed a bit, sending vibrations through his boyfriend’s hole and making him squirm. He started to find a place to fit his hands, feeling confident in being able to hold his position on the couch without his arms supporting him. One hand made its way to Aidan’s sharp hipbone, and the other started on his stomach but soon skidded down to grasp his erection. Dean smiled happily into the younger man’s skin as he felt a strong shudder run through his body.

With his back against the armrest of the couch and Dean’s hand and tongue pleasuring him, Aidan was pretty sure he was in heaven. “Fuck, babe, I… oh, God, just like that,” he moaned, loving the way his boyfriend managed to match the pace of his hand and his tongue. He was a little embarrassed to notice how quickly Dean was getting him close. On the other hand, it had been a week since he had gotten off; between their rigorous shooting schedule and Dean running out of medication, they either hadn’t had energy or time since the previous weekend. “You’re gonna make me come,” he ground out between gasps, his hips thrusting back and forth between Dean’s tongue and hand.

For just a moment, Dean pulled his mouth away, though his hand kept going. “That’s the general idea, you know,” he said with a smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand briefly. “How soon, though, babe?”

“Soon, if you get your mouth back down there,” Aidan growled, thrusting up into Dean’s hand. “Please, I just want to get off and then I’ll blow you, don’t you want that?”

“I’m sold,” Dean replied, winking before going back to his previous task of rimming the ever-loving hell out of his boyfriend. He tightened his grip a little on the younger man’s hard, leaking cock as he licked into Aidan, giving it his all. He could tell when Aidan was about to come when suddenly the legs around his shoulders tightened and the younger man let out a strangled moan of “Dean!”

Aidan shook as he spilled all over his boyfriend’s hand, a couple spurts of come making it onto his own stomach. He moaned through it, his orgasm all the more intensified by Dean’s tongue. “Ahh, ahh, babe, m’done,” he got out once the continued stimulation became too much. Immediately, Dean stopped his hand and mouth and slithered up Aidan’s body to mouth at his shoulder happily.

“You like that?”

“Of course I did, you arse,” Aidan replied happily, wiggling his body a little further back in the couch so his naked, sensitive body would get scraped by Dean’s pants. “I bet you want me to blow you now, don’t you?”

Dean grinned widely. “I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, pulling away from Aidan to sit up, his legs spread out again and his feet firmly planted on the floor. Aidan preferred kneeling to leaning all over the couch, which tended to cramp his back. As keyed up as he was, Dean was pretty shocked he didn’t cream his pants at the sight of his boyfriend sliding to his knees and looking up at him with a smirk.

Without missing a beat, Aidan reached up and pulled Dean’s hardened cock from his pants, not bothering to pull the pants themselves down. “Mm, looks good,” he teased, poking his tongue out lick gently at the tip, eliciting a drawn-out moan from his boyfriend. “You love it, I know. Want me to suck it?” he asked, not even waiting for a nod before he opened his mouth and took Dean’s cock into his mouth, sliding down as far as he could and swallowing around him.

“Fuck!” Dean yelled tangling one hand in Aidan’s bouncy curls to pull at them in ecstasy, his other hand gripping one of the couch cushions. “God, Aid, yes, just like that!” As inexperienced with men as Aidan had been when they first started dating, he had taken to blowjobs like a fish to water. “Fuckin’ love it when you blow me,” he added, scratching the younger man’s scalp as he worked to keep his hips down. As quickly as Aidan had learned proper cock-sucking skills, he was not able to handle thrusts without gagging yet.

With one hand, the Irishman reached up to play with Dean’s balls, squeezing and tugging gently as he felt them draw up closer to his boyfriend’s body. Aidan hummed and tongued the thick vein at the bottom of the older man’s cock, knowing that doing that was a failsafe in getting Dean off.

Sure enough, a few seconds of humming and Dean was gasping for air as he flooded Aidan’s mouth with thick come, his abs clenching as he rode out the pleasure with expert sucks, slowing instinctually as he felt the New Zealander’s hand relaxing in his hair. Once he had swallowed everything, he rested his head on Dean’s thigh and smiled up at him. “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, petting at Aidan’s now-mussed hair. “Come kiss me, babe? Then it’s time for another nap. Want to snuggle up naked?” he asked, taking his pants off as Aidan stood up to get back on the couch next to him.

“Sounds perfect,” Aidan replied, then leaned in for a slow, loving kiss.


	4. Back to Wellington

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just been informed by a wonderful commenter that Adam Brown is gay. I literally have no idea how I missed this. To be fair, I have the worst gaydar and once read a list of gay celebrities and was surprised at basically every entry. I feel like I am a bad member of the LGBT community for this, but there you go. I edited a bit of what Adam says in this chapter to reflect his sexuality because nothing is douchier than ignoring real gay people in favor of fake gay ones.

After the long weeks on location, going back to Wellington was a relief to everyone, cast and crew. As soon as they had arrived back at their rented houses, people had gone inside and crashed. Dean and Aidan were no exception, and were both sound asleep on Aidan’s bed, snoring quietly on top of the covers where they had collapsed, fully clothed, the second they had stepped in the door three hours previously. Long hours on set combined with wearying travel meant that both men were delighted to get a day off before heading back to work in the studio. As happy as they had been to explore the wilder parts of New Zealand, with endless miles between towns and gorgeous countryside in which to walk hand-in-hand, they were glad to be back to the land of take-out, real houses instead of trailers, and easily accessible stores for groceries and other necessities.

Dean awoke first, his stomach growling. He thought about rolling over and trying to go back to sleep, but then saw the clock and realized it was time to make--or order--dinner. He gently rubbed Aidan’s arm, pushing him just a bit to shake him softly. “Babe?” he said, not too loudly. “What do you want for dinner? It’s past seven, and we barely had lunch.” They had each eaten paltry sandwiches while traveling, and Dean, at least, definitely needed something more. “We need to get either groceries or take-out, though. The only thing I saw in the cabinets when I put away the peanut butter we brought back was more peanut butter, so if you want actual food, we’ve got to drive somewhere.”

Aidan, who had been slowly waking up during Dean’s little monologue, opened his eyes just a little. “Take-out,” he said as decisively as he could for having just woken from a nap. “I don’t want to cook. I just want take-out and maybe a movie, or talking with you about stupid things that don’t require thought. I’m tired,” he added in explanation, a bit of whine creeping into his voice. “I’m too tired to cook, I’m too tired to shower, and I’m too fucking tired to make decisions.” He looked at Dean with a hint of a pout on his face. “Take-out?” he repeated hopefully.

With a laugh, Dean nodded. “Chinese?” he suggested, picking up his wallet from the bedside table where he had dropped it right before falling asleep. When he noticed Aidan’s eyes slipping shut again, he poked the younger man’s side. “Hey, you need to get up! I can’t drive, so you’re in charge of this little venture,” he reminded his exhausted boyfriend. “Come on, if you drive us to that little place near the cinema, I’ll call in our order on the way and run in to pick it up. It’ll be really quick, babe, but I need you to drive.”

With an overly dramatic sigh, Aidan rolled off the bed, brightening up when he looked down and remembered he hadn’t even taken off his shoes before dropping off. “Okay, I’m up,” he said, grabbing his own wallet, phone, and keys from the table and shoving them into his pockets. “I don’t feel like trying anything new tonight, so can we just order shit we know we like, babe? Some dumplings and beef and chicken.”

Dean nodded, finding his mobile in his backpack and calling their favorite Chinese restaurant, which, embarrassingly, was in his speed-dial list, between his parents’ house and his brother’s mobile. It took less than a minute to list their various staples (fried dumplings, chicken fried rice, and Mongolian-style beef), and by the time he ended the call, Aidan was ready to go. “Thanks for getting up to drive,” he told the Irishman as they walked out the door and to the rented car.

“It’s no problem,” Aidan assured him, sliding into the driver’s seat and turning the car on as Dean got in on the other side. “It’s kind of self-serving, really, since if I don’t drive, we don’t eat,” he pointed out, turning to look out the back as he reversed out of the driveway.

Of the ways Dean’s epilepsy affected his life, the most frustrating part was his inability to drive. The law stated that any person with a seizure disorder had to go twelve months without a single seizure in order to hold a license, and Dean had never gotten that far. It had been bad enough as a teenager, relying on his parents to drop him off at various places to hang out with his friends, but as an adult it was more than just an embarrassment. He lived in Auckland specifically for the public transportation, which he relied on not only to go to shops or restaurants downtown, but also to get his groceries. On set, he had started out just hitching rides with various people, managing to make it sound like a last-minute decision to tag along, rather than a need for rides. Once he had started dating Aidan, however, he found that while the younger man would grumble a little at the need to leave their cozy home, he was always happy to take Dean wherever he needed to go.

“Should we get anything else while we’re out?” Aidan asked, already thinking ahead to the rest of the week. “I don’t want to go full-on grocery shopping, but we can stop by a pharmacy or corner store, if you want.”

Dean thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Let’s pop by a corner store on the way to get some soda and beer,” he suggested. “If we don’t, we’ll be early for our food anyway.” He leaned back in his seat and stretched his back, hearing it pop a couple times before he relaxed. “God, I’m so fucking happy we’re back,” he said, looking out the window as they passed through the little suburb of Wellington in which they were living. “The middle of nowhere is nice for a while, but that was too long for me.”

Aidan nodded vehemently in agreement, his dark curls bouncing as he did so. “I like being near shit,” he said, putting on his blinker before turning right to head out of the neighborhood and into the area with all the shops. “I don’t really like living in trailers, either. Those showers are so fucking small that I had to bend over to get my hair wet. And,” he added, looking grumpy at the mere memory, “they were too small to have sex in. Showers should be built to accommodate two grown men fucking their brains out,” he finished, rather authoritatively for a man whose ears had turned red from embarrassment.

“I didn’t have to bend to wash my hair, but I agree on the fucking aspect,” Dean replied, remembering their first--and only--attempt to have sex in the trailer’s shower. He was just happy he hadn’t broken his leg in the ensuing debacle, as that would have been very awkward to explain to Peter. “Once we catch up on our sleep, let’s fuck in the shower in the house,” he suggested, grinning as he let himself imagine it. It was a testament to his exhaustion that he didn’t get even the least bit hard as he thought of wrapping his legs around Aidan and getting pounded into the wall with hot water running all over them.

Judging by the shift in his seating position, however, Aidan’s body was a little more awake than Dean’s. “Yeah, that, uh, that sounds good,” he mumbled, blushing more deeply as he resisted the temptation to reach a hand down to rub at the front of his jeans, remembering the previous times he and Dean had fucked in the shower.

“Looks like you don’t need to catch up on sleep,” Dean noted cheerfully. “If I weren’t such a responsible adult and didn’t care about shit like safety and not getting arrested, I’d offer road head,” he added, grinning in delight when he heard Aidan groan quietly and saw the bulge at the front of the younger man’s pants grow a bit. “Babe, you are one horny fucker,” he said, rather impressed that Aidan had enough energy to get hard just thinking about sex.

“You’re making it worse,” Aidan complained, now unable to stop himself from taking one hand from the wheel and using it to undo his button and zipper to take some pressure off his growing erection, making him sigh in relief. “This is not the time, or the place, to be putting those sort of thoughts in my head.” Before his hand could wander around below the waist, he brought it up to the steering wheel once more, gripping it hard in frustration. “Dammit, Deano, now I’m way too horny to be in public.”

Dean just smiled innocently, enjoying his boyfriend’s frustration even if he couldn’t muster the energy to get aroused himself. “It must be so difficult, concentrating on the road when you’re getting a giant boner just from thinking about taking me up against the wall of the shower, or what it would be like if I leaned across the car to suck you off, right here where people could see with just a casual little glance into the car…”

“Stop it,” Aidan begged, biting his lip hard in hopes that the pain would distract him from the fact his boyfriend was using his smooth bedroom voice and suggesting all sorts of completely inappropriate things to him. “If you say anything more, I’m going to pull into a sketchy alley and make you follow through,” he growled, shifting in his seat once more as Dean laughed.

With a thoughtful expression, Dean weighed his exhaustion against how much Aidan would love it if he got him off in a semi-public area. For someone who turned red at the mention of sex when he wasn’t aroused, Aidan sure seemed to have a kink for blowjobs or mutual wanking where they could be caught. It had gotten to the point where Dean was no longer surprised when Aidan herded him into a bathroom or deserted makeup trailer during short breaks on set. At the moment, the New Zealander felt a little bad, because it was his teasing dirty talk that had gotten his poor boyfriend into this state, so he made an executive decision. “You should find an alley,” he growled softly, placing one hand on Aidan’s thigh. “Shit, a parking garage would be even better,” he added, though he wasn’t terribly concerned where they went to do this. Nobody seemed to be around, and they weren’t quite to the shopping area yet, so what was the harm? It’s not like the police were going to pop out and arrest them; they wouldn’t be in plain sight.

“Fuckin’ hell, Dean,” Aidan breathed, spotting a sign promising parking if they turned left at the next intersection. He followed the signs and was beyond relieved to find a four-story parking garage, which he immediately entered, taking the little ticket from the machine before driving all the way to the top, which was blissfully deserted. He didn’t care that he would have to pay five dollars to park there for up to an hour, because frankly he was dying to get off at this point. “Backseat?” he suggested, putting the car in park and turning it off.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, feeling his own body starting to respond as he realized that they were really, truly going to do this. “Do we have lube in the car?” he asked, trying to remember if they had left any in there after a brief road trip. They hadn’t fucked in the car yet, but there might be some in it from sticking the bottle in there hastily after a bit of outdoor fun.

“Check the seat pocket,” Aidan suggested as he switched from the front seat to the larger backseat. “Are you planning on doing something other than a blowjob?” he asked as he realized with a shiver that lube meant something more.

Dean let out a triumphant noise when, after getting in the backseat with Aidan, he found a bottle of lube and two condoms in the pocket on the back of the passenger seat. “I guess I’m not too tired after all,” he explained, tossing the supplies to his boyfriend as he reach between his legs to massage himself through two layers of fabric, moaning loudly as he did so. “I want you to fuck me right here,” he gasped, watching attentively as Aidan began to strip off his clothing at a frenzied pace. “And I want it so hard it’ll fuck up the suspension.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Dean,” Aidan breathed, squirting some lube onto his hand and wrapping it around his erection to stroke himself slowly as his boyfriend rid himself of his clothes, squirming around the car as he did so. “You went from zero to sixty in about half a second, there.” He stopped touching himself as soon as Dean was totally naked, and he sat up on his knees so the older could partially lie down; the Kiwi took up half of the backseat, his legs spread wide in invitation and his already full erection resting on his stomach. With a happy groan, Aidan leaned in to mouth at Dean’s nipples while slipping two fingers inside his boyfriend.

They usually started with one finger, so Dean gasped loudly when he felt two right off the bat. However, he had gotten suddenly, undeniably desperate the second he had gotten in the backseat, and he immediately rocked into Aidan’s wandering fingers. “Yeah, baby,” he groaned, not even trying to be quiet. This floor of the parking garage was completely empty, so there was no reason to silence himself. “You haven’t given me a rough fuck like this in weeks. I’m going to come so fuckin’ hard, Aid, so fuckin’ hard.” When Dean got this aroused, he tended to ramble, his mouth running all sorts of dirty thoughts without a filter.

“Me too,” Aidan grunted, working a third finger into Dean and stretching him as quickly as he could, using his free hand and his teeth to open packaging of one of the condoms. He let the foil fall somewhere on the floor, and made sure the little circle of latex was on his boyfriend’s stomach, easily accessible, before he went back to lavishing attention on the older man’s nipples, his teeth sinking into one lightly. He grinned around it when he heard a breathless yelp, and he used that time to sneak a fourth finger into Dean’s stretched hole. After a few seconds of wiggling his fingers inside the older man, teasing without ever touching his prostate, he pulled them out and rolled on the condom quickly. “Ready?”

Dean shifted a little so he could wrap one leg around Aidan’s waist, though the other was stuck, as the backseat was clearly not made with fucking in mind. “Yeah,” he whispered, and then let out a long groan as Aidan slowly pushed himself inside. “It’s been way too long,” he gasped, voice cracking and body jerking when the younger man finally brushed against his prostate. “I almost forgot how fuckin’ big you are. God, babe, you have such a great cock.”

With an almost animalistic grin, Aidan pulled his hips back and snapped them forward, making them both moan loudly. “Christ, Dean,” he grunted, setting a harsh pace. He felt a stab of arousal so hard it made him shiver when he realized the car was rocking and creaking as he thrust roughly into Dean’s body. “I’ve never… I’ve never fucked in a car before,” he admitted, leaning down to bite his boyfriend’s shoulder; Dean had quite the love of teeth digging into his skin.

“Me either,” Dean moaned, pushing his hips up to meet every one of Aidan’s perfect thrusts. “Yes, yes, fuck, like that!” he cried out when his boyfriend found an angle that drove his erection directly into Dean’s prostate. “Harder!” he grunted loudly, pressing his heel hard against the small of Aidan’s back in encouragement. “Please, babe, harder!”

Obligingly, Aidan braced his feet against the door and thrust his hips harder, one hand holding himself up and the other pulling Dean’s hips back against his whenever he pushed forward. “This hard enough for you?” he growled, and then bent down to suck a dark hickey into the older man’s neck.

“Yes!” Dean practically screamed in pleasure. He had always liked a good, hard fuck, and right now, Aidan was giving him possibly the best he had ever had. “Can you reach my cock?” he asked, not wanting to move his hands from where they braced him to keep his head from slamming into the window with every sharp drive of Aidan’s body into his. “Fuck, I need to come, babe. I’m gonna come all over you and get it fuckin’ everywhere, feel like I’m gonna come for hours.” He wasn’t really sure what he was saying until it reached his ears, but he didn’t care. He was too far gone to think of what he was saying.

Regretfully, Aidan stopped pulling Dean into him and instead used that hand to jerk his boyfriend off, spreading the precome from his tip all over and he squeezed and pulled. There wasn’t any finesse in his actions, but neither of them could care. This wasn’t about perfect technique and going slow, this was about getting off as hard and as fast as possible. “Tell me what you need, Dean,” Aidan said on a moan, burying his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder, too aroused to even lick or bite at the older man.

“Just…” Dean had no idea what to ask for. In fact, he didn’t really need anything, because at that point his balls tightened and he knew he was about to come. “Shit, shit, Aidan, I’m…” he trailed off into a wordless moan as he practically exploded between their stomachs and chests, back arching as he came hard, pearly fluid covering not just Aidan’s hand, but also getting in their chest hair, and a tiny bit going up so far as to catch in the Irishman’s scruffy beard. “Fuck, Aid, oh my fuckin’ God,” Dean gasped, rocking his hips between his boyfriend’s thick cock and firm grip as he rode out his long orgasm.

Aidan was enraptured both by Dean’s gorgeous face as he came, and by the way the older man’s body clenched around him. As Dean’s cock slowly stopped spurting out fluid, Aidan thrust in hard and suddenly bit down on his boyfriend’s shoulder, muffling his loud moans as he filled the condom, hips jerking sharply as he fucked Dean through his own orgasm. When he finished, he collapsed fully onto the New Zealander, panting with exhaustion. “Holy fuck,” he gasped, feet falling from the door as his body relaxed. “That was the hottest thing I have ever done in my whole life, Dean. I… fuck.”

Dean laughed breathlessly at Aidan’s inability to find words. “Same,” he agreed, running his heel down from the small of his boyfriend’s back to rub his ass. “I mean, it’s always been great before, babe, but you were a fucking _animal_. In a good way,” he added quickly, leaning down to kiss Aidan’s ear. He felt his eyes slipping shut when he suddenly remembered something, and they popped open almost comically wide. “Food!”

“Shit,” Aidan grunted, knowing exactly what his boyfriend meant. He started to sit up, and winced when he felt his chest hair sticking to Dean’s. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” he said, biting his lip as he pulled himself off. “I don’t know if this is rude to comment on,” he began, grinning a little, “but that is the most I have ever seen you come. You drenched me. You were like a goddamn fire hose, Deano. Fuck.” He reached into the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat and was relieved to find a little package of wet wipes. He took two out and began to scrub their chests clean, first Dean’s and then his own. While the older man started pulling on his clothes, Aidan removed the condom, feeling a little gross when he dropped it on the floor with the rest of their trash.

“Come on, get dressed,” Dean prompted him, still feeling a little sticky as he struggled into his boxers and jeans. “I can’t believe we just did that,” he added, still in awe of the fact he had just had the best sex of his life in a car in a parking garage. “I feel a little nasty and a little proud of that.”

“A little?” Aidan repeated, buttoning up his shirt and checking his clothing to make sure it was all in place before removing himself from the backseat and getting behind the wheel once more. After Dean got in the passenger seat, he started the car and began to drive down to the exit of the parking garage. “I feel very nasty and very proud,” he continued, stopping by the exit machine and inserting his ticket and his money. “I just had gay sex in a goddamn parking garage and made my boyfriend scream. Not bad for a Catholic boy.” He turned right out of the garage and headed toward the shops to pick up their food. “I’ll park in the cinema lot and you can get the food while I grab drinks from the 7-11,” he said, noticing that they were already approaching the restaurant. “Okay, I hadn’t realized how close we were. We probably could have kept it in our pants til we got home.”

Dean shook his head. “If we’d kept it in our pants, I would not have had that great of an orgasm,” he argued. “It was fucking worth it.” He smiled as Aidan parked the car. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow, I won’t be able to walk right,” he said proudly, leaning over to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. “Everyone is going to know what a monster you are between the sheets.”

“Or in the backseat, as it were,” Aidan corrected him before getting out of the car. “I’ll meet you back here in a couple minutes,” he promised Dean as they went their separate ways to pick up dinner and drinks.

* * *

 

Early the next morning, Dean stumbled into the catering area, easily finding his friends, who were all sitting around a table, wearing varying amounts of their costumes. “Morning,” he mumbled, putting his phone down to mark his spot before going to the buffet to grab himself eggs and toast. As he had predicted, he was sore from the previous evening’s activities in the parking garage; if anything, he had underestimated just how sore he would be. Each step was taken gingerly, so as not to put any unwanted pressure on his body. As much as it hurt, though, Dean still felt it was worth every little bit of pain. When he and Aidan were next apart, he knew he’d be jerking off to that memory, and probably even dreaming of it.

When he returned to the table with a full plate and a cup of tea, he saw everyone giving him looks. “What?” he asked, the perfect mask of innocence on his face.

“You must have had some fun last night,” Jed said, raising his eyebrows. “Peter’s not going to be too happy with you, the way you’re walking,” he added a little more seriously.

“I hate when you walk like that," Adam complained, giving Dean a playful glare. "I know some things that can cause that walk, and I don't want to imagine you and Aidan doing them. You're both attractive men and all, but I don't want to imagine you two... you're like my brothers and nobody likes to think of their brothers having sex."

It didn’t help everyone’s imaginations when Aidan walked in, looking very smug for how early it was. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully, leaning down to give Dean a kiss on the forehead. “How’s everyone?”

Ian cleared his throat. “You young people need to stop making your dalliances so obvious,” he told the couple at the table, giving them a playfully stern look. “I’d tell you to have a sense of decorum, but that won’t work. So just think about the lecture you’ll get from Peter if he figures out why Dean is limping. It doesn’t take a genius, you know.”

Aidan blushed at the thought of a lecture from the director about how their rough sex was affecting the movie and how they should have less of it or, God forbid, they should have none of it. “Okay,” he mumbled meekly, slinking off in embarrassment to get himself some breakfast.

Dean gave Ian a little glare, though it was hard to do since the older man was already in his Gandalf costume. “I swear to God, Ian, if you scared him away from doing that again, I will…” he considered his next words, as he was rather intimidated by the fact Ian had been knighted. “I will be very cross.”

An undignified noise made everyone turn towards Adam. “Please, let’s all just stop talking and… and thinking about whats Aidan did to you last night,” he begged. “If I learn any details, I won’t be able to look either of you in the eye for weeks."

“Well, Adam, it involves sex swings, you ever use one of those?” Dean began facetiously, grinning as his young friend blushed and the other dwarves began to laugh uproariously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be plot. Really. But then porn. A lot of this story is not going to be directly related to Dean's epilepsy, because that doesn't define him. So yeah. Porn. Woo.


	5. Pub Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More lack of plot. But, hey, two chapters in one day, yay!!! Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers, happy almost-weekend to all non-American readers!

Dean loved his friends, but he couldn’t stand their worried stares.

“Okay, I know you didn’t _know_ I had epilepsy when I drank with you before, but I did, and I was fine,” Dean said for what felt like the millionth time; in this specific instance, he was speaking to a rather concerned-looking Richard Armitage. He had thought he wouldn’t have to explain this, but it turned out that the only reason he hadn’t been asked about it was that right after everyone had learned about his seizures, they had left for location shooting, which had made going to pubs pretty much impossible. Now that they were back, everyone seemed wary of letting Dean near alcohol.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry,” Richard apologized, looking sincerely contrite. “I just can’t help it. Seeing you have a seizure was so terrifying that I’d do anything to avoid that happening again, and I read online that alcohol can be a trigger,” he explained.

As it turned out, Dean had heard that reasoning from at least two friends so far, and he no longer had patience for it. “Aidan has seen way more of my seizures than you have, and you’ll notice he doesn’t flip out when I drink,” he replied testily. He knew it wasn’t fair that he was getting bitchy with Richard, since he had been far more patient with the previous people that had spoken to him, but he was at the end of his rope and just wanted to drink his beer in peace. “I’m a grown man, and I am going to enjoy my goddamn beer,” he said, turning away from Richard and leaving before he accidentally said more mean things.

Luckily, Richard was not a man to hold grudges or assume the worst about people, and figured out within seconds that Dean was just sick of being lectured; he watched guiltily as the young Kiwi brushed off three more well-meaning friends as he made his way down the table to his seat next to Aidan. “Graham,” he said to the man sitting next to him, “I’d recommend _not_ mentioning Dean’s epilepsy in conjunction to his drinking.”

“I’d gathered that for myself, actually,” Graham said drily. “He’s getting a little short with everyone, but the sentiment is right: he’s an adult and even if alcohol does affect his seizures, it’s his choice whether or not he drinks.”

“I know,” Richard said with a sigh. “I think I took this whole nephew thing too much to heart. I worry about him.”

Down the table, Dean was sandwiched between Aidan and Orlando, trying to follow a loud, confusing conversation that Martin, Stephen, and Jed were having across from them. There was something about rugby, he thought, but he had definitely come in too late to understand. He was fiddling with his beer mat when he heard Martin yell out his name, and he looked up.

The Englishman was definitely drunk, and more than just a little. “Dean, I have a question,” he said in the self-important manner the New Zealander had seen in countless drunk friends. “Can you even fuck?”

Dean, along with everyone else in hearing range, just stared, too taken aback to tell Martin how inappropriate and patronizing and simply, utterly _awkward_ that question was.

Sensing that he wasn’t going to get an answer, Martin turned next to Aidan. “You’d know, wouldn’t you?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Can he do anything, you know, between the sheets, or are you two all… celibate, like nuns or some shit?”

“Martin, let’s go find you something to eat,” Orlando suggested, getting to his feet and pulling the older actor away from the table. While Martin got stable on his feet, the brunet turned back to stage-whisper to Dean, “I’ll give him a lecture on ‘things that can and cannot be asked at the table’ and one on how not to be a dick to people with disabilities.” With a wink, he turned back to his drunken charge and steered him towards the bar.

“For someone so weird, he’s rather tactful when the need arises,” Jed observed as they watch Orlando leave. “Also, I’d just like to go on the record as the man who lived in the trailer next to Aidan’s while on location: I know for a fact that you can have sex, Dean. I would rather not know this for a fact, but neither of you seems to have a concept of things like being quiet, or it being the middle of the night and us older folk needing our sleep.”

“Sorry,” Aidan mumbled meekly, blushing deeply at the knowledge that Jed had heard him and Dean having sex. Hopefully he had only heard some of their tamer trysts, and never any of their bedroom adventures that had included phrases like “fucking in costume was the best idea you’ve ever had” and “I’m eighty percent sure you made this position up, you weirdo” because those were the sort of things he didn’t want anyone to know.

“Whatever, Jed, you probably got off on it, don’t lie,” Dean teased, grinning when Aidan turned an even darker red. “Aw, come on, babe. Jed’s just jealous we have better sex than he does. Don’t be embarrassed about that. I bet _everyone_ has better sex than he does.”

“Fuck off, O’Gorman,” Jed said with a laugh, and then turned the conversation back to rugby. Like Orlando, he knew when to step in or back off, despite his loud, joking nature. Anyway, he was happy to talk rugby with Stephen while Aidan drained his glass and willed his face back to its normal color.

In a couple minutes, Orlando slid back into his seat next to Dean, though Martin had not returned with him. “I unloaded our drunken friend on the dragon,” he explained, pointing to the other side of the room, where Martin had joined Benedict, William, and John; luckily, all of them seemed to be entertained by his antics, rather than annoyed. “Sorry he was being a loudmouth,” he added when Dean turned back to him.

“It’s not your fault,” the Kiwi replied with a shrug.

Orlando rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry. It’s just kind of shit that you have to hear those questions, and have people worrying about you all the time. I was in a wheelchair for a little bit after I broke my back, and people asked me some right stupid questions. I guess they didn’t see anything wrong with it since I was disabled. One lady I had never met asked me how I peed.” He laughed a little at the memory, but Dean could tell it had not exactly been a pleasant experience. “I know it’s not the same, since that was temporary and your disability is forever, but… I know the feeling of people feeling like they have the right to ask personal questions.”

Dean was a little surprised; he’d heard of Orlando breaking his back, but he hadn’t really put together that the Englishman had, at least for a time, experienced disability. He was also a bit shocked that he was willing to talk about that experience; maybe it was because it was so far in the past, but Dean had only started talking about his epilepsy in the last couple years, despite having it for the majority of his life. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s kind of nice to know someone else understands it. Once they know I have epilepsy, it’s like people forget that I’m the same guy they knew before. They all seem to have forgotten the times they’ve seen me drink, even get completely trashed, and not had a seizure. Martin apparently didn’t hear everyone teasing me when I was walking a little funny after…” He refrained from finishing that sentence out of deference to his more modest boyfriend. “They all stopped seeing me as just another bloke.”

“It’s shit,” Orlando said bluntly, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “People treat you like you’re made of glass, or can’t do anything for yourself. It’s even worse for you, since you’ve had epilepsy the whole time they’ve known you. Nothing’s changed about you, even physically, like it did with me. You are exactly the same person, they’ve just learned something new and they all just collectively lost their shit.”

“You’re not half-bad, Orlando,” Aidan said, leaning around Dean to make eye contact with the older man. “I sort of assumed you’d be a know-it-all, since you’ve been in lots of films and you’re Legolas and stuff, but you just bonded with my boyfriend. I like that.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you try to steal him.”

Dean groaned, mortified. “Aidan,” he hissed, poking his boyfriend in the side. “How much have you had to drink? You’re being an arse. Stop threatening Orlando. He’s straight.”

“He doesn’t look it,” Aidan argued, tweaking Dean’s nose happily. “And I’ve had a nice amount to drink. I’m going to go bother Richard for a bit, and then I want to go home and cuddle and watch that dumb sci-fi movie you were talking about earlier, the one with the aliens.” Utterly oblivious to his atrocious manners, he drifted away to the other end of the table and sat down next to Richard.

“Okay, I’m really sorry about that,” Dean said, still cringing internally at the fact his boyfriend had just told Orlando Bloom, an international movie star and nice man, that he didn’t look straight. “He’s… wow, he’s really drunk. I’m going to have to pour him into a damn cab tonight.”

Orlando just laughed. “Honestly, I don’t care. When we were filming _Rings_ , so, like, ten years ago, Sir Ian got a bit drunk with a bunch of the other fellowship actors, and he told me he thought I looked gay. Literally every single person sitting at the table agreed with him. Loudly,” he added with a smile. “I’ve made peace with how gay I apparently look. And,” he said, glancing down the table, “I don’t want to alarm you, Dean, but your boyfriend looks like he’s trying to sit in Richard’s lap. I’d say it’s time you take him home.”

Dean looked down the table and, sure enough, he saw Richard valiantly trying to fend off an affectionate Aidan. “I can’t believe him,” he muttered, standing up. “Thanks for giving Martin a talking to,” he said with a grin. “Have a great night, yeah?”

“You too. Don’t let Aidan make any terrible decisions between here and your house,” Orlando replied amusedly, and then turned to join in on Jed and Stephen’s conversation, which had moved from rugby to books.

At the other end of the table, Dean managed to pull Aidan off of Richard; it was no mean feat, considering that the Irishman had a good few inches on him. “Okay, time to go home, babe,” he told the younger man.

Aidan shook his head. “I’m going to get Richard to tell me a bedtime story,” he insisted, trying to wiggle out of Dean’s grip. “He has to because of uncle duties, you know.”

“No. He doesn’t. Christ, Aidan, did you throw back shots while I wasn’t looking?” Dean loved his boyfriend dearly, but he was not in the mood to deal with him while he was this stubborn and drunk. “Come on, let’s get a cab. We can watch a movie at home. You said you wanted to watch the alien one, didn’t you?”

“Yeah!” Aidan said, bounding toward the door, Richard and bedtime stories apparently forgotten. Dean followed after him while mouthing apologies to the older men at the table, face burning.

Luckily, they were able to get a cab quickly, and Aidan was happy to get in and head home. Dean was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to deal with having to convince the younger man to ride with him. When they arrived at the house, Dean paid the driver before practically dragging Aidan up the steps and through the door. He felt very thankful for dwarf boot camp at that moment, as he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have had the strength to do that a year ago.

“Let’s get you some water,” Dean suggested, tugging at Aidan’s arm so the younger man would follow him to the kitchen. He gave his boyfriend a magazine to look through, in hopes that would keep him entertained so he wouldn’t wander off while Dean got his water. The distraction technique seemed to work, because when he turned back to give Aidan a glass of water, the Irishman was flipping through the glossy pages to look at all the pictures. He downed the water without a fuss, and Dean even managed to get a second glass into him. The older man didn’t want to deal with a hungover boyfriend in the morning; Aidan was grouchy enough when woken, and he didn’t want to add in a headache and nausea.

“Dean?” Aidan said, putting down the magazine and pulling his boyfriend close to him. “I love you. I love you lots. Did you know that? Because I do,” he explained happily, stroking Dean’s hair clumsily.

“I love you, too,” the older man said softly. They didn’t often say that to each other; that little phrase made everything more real and immediate, like they had to have a plan for the future when they would leave from filming and go back to opposite sides of the world. Regardless of the painful implications, Dean loved Aidan, and was always happy to hear that the other man loved him as well. “Do you want to watch that movie or go to bed?” he asked, tucking his head into Aidan’s chest to be further enveloped by his tall, warm boyfriend.

“Bed?” Aidan suggested. “Wait,” he said, stopping after one step and looking at the New Zealander suspiciously. “That was a confusing question,” he continued in a mildly accusatory tone. “Did you mean we should go to bed for sex or go to bed for sleeping? Or,” he added, looking like this third option was an important revelation, “did you mean go to bed to snuggle and talk?”

Unable to stop himself, Dean laughed in Aidan’s face, and then immediately stopped when the younger man looked hurt. “We can do whatever you want,” he promised, kissing his boyfriend on the chin--he was too lazy to make the effort to reach the taller man’s mouth. “Do you want sex, sleep, or cuddles?”

Aidan looked thoughtful as they started walking again, heading for the bedroom at the back of the one-story house. “I like all of those,” he replied slowly, clearly having a tough time with the choice. “Maybe not sleep right now, but I don’t know if I want to have sex with you or just cuddle you.” He gave Dean a little pout as they made it to the bedroom. “This is a very difficult decision,” he said, sitting on the bed and tugging off his shoes. “And if I choose sex, we have to make all these choices like who’s on top and stuff.”

“Sweetie, that’s just one choice.”

“Maybe we have to decide if we want sex toys,” Aidan pointed out loudly, yanking his shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor. “I’ve seen your dildo collection, Dean, don’t pretend I haven’t.”

“Yeah, I guess we… wait, when did you see those?” Dean asked, doing a double take when he realized he hadn’t actually shown any of his sex toys to Aidan. It wasn’t that he had purposefully avoided showing them, but he was the Irishman’s first boyfriend, so he had decided that bringing out the dildos would have been too overwhelming.

The younger man looked guilty. “Well, I was going through the closet with all the boxes one day because I needed to find a warm shirt that I thought was still packed and I opened a box and _boom_ there were a million dildos. I don’t own dildos, so I think they’re yours,” he explained, clearly proud of his reasoning skills. “There were also some things that looked like stuff I’ve seen in porn, ‘cause I like porn, but I don’t know what they’re called.”

Clearly, Dean was too sober for this conversation. “Did, uh, did you like the look of those things?” he asked, trying to figure out if Aidan was okay with this or not. It was difficult to tell. He brightened up when he realized he could turn the conversation in a different direction. “What sort of porn do you like, babe? I didn’t know you watched any.”

Aidan gave his boyfriend a withering look. “Do you know guys our age who _don’t_ watch porn?” he asked. “Do you not watch porn? Oh my God, Dean, I didn’t know. Maybe we should snuggle and watch porn. I can’t believe you don’t watch any. How do you have dildos but not watch porn? I think we need an intervention. I’ve got some videos downloaded on my computer. Where’s my laptop?” he asked, looking wildly around the room.

“I watch porn!” Dean argued, trying not to let himself notice how damn ridiculous this conversation had become. “I just didn’t want to assume you did,” he added a little haughtily. “You didn’t answer my question, though. What sort of porn do you watch? Is it gay porn? Because if you watch straight porn, I don’t really want to watch it,” he explained, wrinkling his nose. Straight porn--and the general idea of straight sex, to be honest--was sort of gross, in Dean’s opinion. What was up with all those ladies? He was not a fan, sexually speaking.

“Both, duh,” Aidan said, rolling his eyes. “I’m bisexual, Dean. That means I like all kinds of porn!”

“That’s not the actual definition. You know that, right?”

“Shut up. Here, one second,” Aidan huffed, hauling himself off the bed to hunt around for his laptop, letting out a happy yell when he found it. He brought it back to the bed and dragged Dean to sit against the headboard with him. “Take off your shirt while I find this,” he demanded, and his poor boyfriend was so shocked by the entire scenario playing out in the bedroom that he simply obliged without a second thought, his eyes glued to Aidan’s laptop as he watched the younger man click through various folders to get to one that was casually labeled as “stuff”.

“Did you really name your porn folder ‘stuff’ on there?” he asked incredulously. “Aidan, you’re an adult, it’s not like your mum is going to look through and find it. You could just call it what it is.”

“I’m a gentleman,” Aidan argued, opening the “stuff” folder, revealing three folders within it: Man Stuff, Lady Stuff, and Both Stuff. “Gentlemen don’t have folders with the word porn in the label.”

Dean just shook his head silently and pointed at the Man Stuff folder. “If we’re actually going to do this, which, I would like to emphasize, is kind of stupid, we’re only watching things from this folder.”

“Don’t you want to see any girls, Deano?”

“You know damn well I don’t. Do you have kinky porn?” Dean asked, shocked to find even _more_ folders in what was apparently a very well-organized porn section of his boyfriend’s laptop. “How much porn is even on this thing?” he asked in awe, and then began to read the folder names aloud. “Anal, blowjobs, bondage, fetish, masturbation, threesomes, toys… fuckin’ hell, Aid, it’s even alphabetized.”

Aidan looked inordinately proud of his porn folder organizational skills. “What do you want me to click on? Oh, and I think we should get naked,” he added, as if he had just remembered that pretty much the entire point of porn was to get off on it. He started to pull of his pants and boxer briefs happily, tossing them onto the floor near his shirt.

Still unable to do anything but obey his clearly strange boyfriend, Dean took off his jeans and underwear as well, though the chill made him get under the covers, where Aidan joined him. “What sort of fetish porn do you have?” he asked curiously, hoping that his boyfriend didn’t have any “out there” fetishes. Well, at least no “out there” fetishes that Dean didn’t share.

“Not too much,” Aidan admitted, sounding a little sad about that. “Most of my relationships have been kind of vanilla, so I don’t know what to explore. I’ve got a bit of wax play stuff and some, uh, men wearing lingerie, but that’s all.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You like men in lingerie?” he asked, a little surprised. “You know, if you tell me this sort of thing, I can make it happen.”

Aidan blushed deeply. “A man’s fetishes are private.”

“Well, you’re showing me now,” Dean pointed out, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder as a reminder that this was all okay with him. “Do you want to watch some of that, or would you feel better watching some of the vanilla stuff?” He didn’t want to make Aidan uncomfortable by forcing him to share his slightly kinky porn, but he was now curious and wanted to see if there was anything he could take some inspiration from in those movies.

“I mean, it’s not like I want to really do that stuff in real life,” Aidan mumbled, leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder. “I just like to watch it, you know? Let’s just watch something else.”

“Okay, babe, we can watch whatever you want,” Dean assured his boyfriend. “We can just go to bed, too, you know. You sound kind of tired,” he added, knowing that Aidan tended to drop off without warning when he was drunk.

Aidan snorted. “You’re not getting out of watching porn, Mister I-Say-I-Watch-Porn-But-I-Probably-Don’t-Really-‘Cause-I’m-Weird,” he told Dean as firmly as he could, opening the Anal folder and clicking on one of the many files in it to bring the film up on the screen, immediately smiling and kissing Dean’s shoulder as he slipped his hands under the covers, clearly on autopilot with his porn-viewing habits. “Do you need tips on how to watch porn?”

“For the last time, you egg, I do watch porn,” Dean protested, focusing part of his attention on the screen, and the other part on the movements of Aidan’s arm under the cover. When only one of them was drunk and the other was sober, they had an agreement to only go for mutual masturbation, if they did anything sexual, rather than actually touching each other. Neither one really liked the idea of the possibility of the drunk one being unable to really consent, so at times like this, they kept their hands to themselves. “You hard already? They aren’t even naked yet!”

“Well, I know what’s coming and the thought of it is pretty hot,” Aidan retorting, rubbing himself gently. He wasn’t fully hard yet and didn’t feel like giving himself full strokes, so he was happy just to rub and snuggle next to Dean. “You’ll like it, babe, it’s guys having sex.”

“I’d figured that out all by myself, actually, but thanks,” Dean replied, watching his boyfriend’s hand move; the movie hadn’t gotten to an exciting enough part for him yet, as he preferred porn that started with sex right away, so he watched Aidan instead, letting that arouse him. “Are you getting hard?” he asked, wondering if the younger man was actually getting it up under there or if he had an acute case of whiskey dick.

“Oh, yeah,” Aidan said on a little moan. “I’m definitely getting hard, babe,” he told his boyfriend, sounding a little insulted at the question. “Wanna touch it to see?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and biting Dean’s shoulder.

Dean grunted happily at the sensation of teeth digging into his skin, but he shook his head. “You know the rules, Aid,” he said patiently. “I’m sober, and you aren’t, so I’m not gonna be touching it. You keep touching it, though, okay? I want to see you make yourself feel good.”

“Spoilsport,” Aidan muttered, but underneath the covers he finally wrapped a hand around himself, starting to stroke. He moaned loudly, eyes cutting from Dean back to the movie playing on his laptop where, in the few minutes since he had looked away, the men on the screen had actually started fucking. He gasped in delight as the scene made his erection twitch. “Do you like it?” he asked Dean suddenly, worrying that he had picked something his boyfriend wasn’t enjoying.

“Yeah,” Dean groaned, and it wasn’t a lie. Since the two men in the movie were finally really having sex, he had gotten hard and reached down to tease at his stiff cock, dragging a finger across the slit and making himself hiss in pleasure. “I like your taste in porn, babe,” he told his boyfriend, his voice a little deeper than usual due to arousal.

“I have great taste in hot men,” Aidan muttered, jostling the computer when he thrust up into his hand. The laptop remained on his chest, though, so he didn’t care, and he continued to push his cock through his fingers with tiny jerks of his hips. He whimpered a bit as he twisted his wrist on the upstroke, making himself shiver. With his free hand, he reach even deeper between his legs but found himself unable to make a decision. “Dean? Should I play with my balls or finger myself?” he asked, sounding like he genuinely needed an answer.

“Jesus, Aid, the things you say,” Dean growled, biting his lip to keep himself grounded so that he wouldn’t roll over and start grinding on his inebriated boyfriend. “I don’t know, uh… balls,” he answered, distracted both by the thought of what Aidan was doing to himself and by the way the bottom in the movie arched into the rough strokes from his partner. He finally stopped teasing himself and really went for it, making a tight fist and jerking himself off with sharp, rough movements.

“Good suggestion,” Aidan moaned, squeezing his own balls, even as they drew up closer and closer to his body. “Fuck, yes, that feels so good,” he gasped, tugging harder at his cock.  “I’m going to come, babe,” he grunted, turning his head from the screen so he could suck at Dean’s neck as he gave himself two more strokes before crying out Dean’s name as he came, back arching and legs shaking. “Fuck,” he hissed, feeling semen on both his hand and the sheet that covered him. “Porn is just great,” he mumbled, immediately feeling sleepy.

“Yup,” Dean ground out, still jacking himself off even as he saw Aidan’s eyes closing. _Really_? Was his boyfriend seriously going to fall asleep before he got himself off? He ignored the younger man and instead focused on the movie, watching as the bottom started crying out loudly, clearly close to an explosive finish. With a sigh, Dean spilled over his hand. It wasn’t an amazing orgasm, not nearly as good as the ones he had during real sex, but it was relaxing all the same. “Are you still awake?” he asked Aidan as he wiped his hand off on the sheets.

All Aidan did was snore quietly, making Dean roll his eyes. Aidan had never been such a stereotypical man, and frankly the older man hadn’t really been prepared to watch his boyfriend just roll over and drop off after coming. “Fuck, I’m going to bitch at you about this in the morning,” he growled, but he kissed Aidan’s forehead all the same before he got up and headed to the bathroom to pee and clean himself up before going to sleep.


	6. Dinner Party Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a young adult who has cooked a full meal for my boss's family once, I suggest avoiding staging dinner parties at all costs.
> 
> Also, some of you may notice I now have two WIPs going here on AO3. Posting will be sporadic with each, as I'll work on whichever I feel more inspired about at the time. Between two stories and my health problems, I'm sure I'll be a slow updater. But I won't forget or abandon this story, and, as always, please tell me if you have any plot (or porn!) bits you want to see :)

Despite living in a tiny, beat-up rented house ten minutes from the movie studio, Dean and Aidan were rather proud of the little home they had made for themselves. Neither was particularly into housework, but living with a partner for the first time had brought out a tiny bit of domesticity in each of them. Because of this, they were rather proud of their home, and, in what Aidan would later describe as a fit of terrible judgment, had invited their friends from the cast over for a dinner party. The realization of the fact it was a bad idea had not occurred until the day of the party, where both Dean and Aidan realized that neither could cook for a large number of people, and they both hated cleaning up their stuff.

“Can we just call everyone and say the party is cancelled because you suddenly have a terrible bout of diarrhea?” Dean asked in a loud voice, growing increasingly desperate as he sliced yet another fucking sweet potato. He loved his friends, but between all of them there were too many allergies and other dietary restrictions and he had struggled to plan out a dinner that everyone could eat enough of to have a full meal.

“Why do I have to be the one with diarrhea? If we’re using that excuse, you’re the one spewing from your arse,” Aidan yelled back from the sitting room, where he was trying to find somewhere to store all of their accumulated books, magazines, and various bits of junk that had piled up on the tables and on the carpet right next to the couch. “This seemed like such a cool adult thing to do, but I’m a little worried because now I’m pretty sure we’re not actually adults.”

Dean glared at the orange vegetable on the cutting board and chopped it with a little more force than necessary. “We are adults,” he protested, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was starting to agree with his boyfriend, since this dinner party didn’t seem like it was going to turn out nearly as nice as any of the ones his parents had hosted. In fact, he was pretty sure the older of their friends would be raising their eyebrows at each other in silent critique, wondering how two grown men, living together in a serious relationship, had managed to get the mirror above the bathroom sink so grimy.

“Okay, the sitting room is pretty clean,” Aidan informed his boyfriend, shuffling into the kitchen. “Do you need help with anything, babe?” he asked, looking at the pile of various vegetables around their counter. “I should probably just cut things, not actually cook, though. Let’s not recreate the chicken stir-fry incident.”

Dean kept himself from gagging at the mere memory of the incident, but just barely. “Yeah, can you cut up the onion?” he asked shoving a large onion at the younger man. “Just dice it, please. It doesn’t need to be really fancy.”

Aidan stared at the blond for a moment. “Dice?” he repeated hesitantly.

 _Oh, God_. Dean snatched the onion back. “Can you clean up the bathroom? Just make sure there’s toilet paper and anything weird is hidden in the cabinet. Oh, and if you can get that mirror to stop looking horrible, I’ll give you a blowjob before the guests arrive.”

“Dean!” Aidan squeaked out, already blushing. He knew that he needed to stop getting uncomfortable when Dean talked about sex when they weren’t already in bed, because he was sure that’s why the older man did it so much, but he couldn’t help it. “I’ll clean the bathroom, but I’ll think of my own reward!” he added as he grabbed some cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink and walked off toward the messy room.

He started by putting things away--his rather embarrassingly large collection of hair products, the extra bottle of lube, Dean’s gross-looking razor that he was too lazy to replace--because he wanted to delay the inevitable cleaning of the mirror. After he had replaced the roll of toilet paper with a new one, he resigned himself to the daunting task and sprayed the mirror with cleaning solution and began to scrub at it, distracting himself with ideas of what his reward could be.

Logically, he knew that he could ask Dean for practically anything and the worst the older man would do was to gently say no--for all his teasing, Dean knew not to make fun of Aidan when it came to things he was sensitive about. Knowing something logically and actually feeling it, however, were two very different things. He had one idea of something that would be pretty damn rewarding if Dean would do it for him, but he wasn’t sure how to ask for it. Well, he’d figure it out. As he finished wiping off the mirror, leaving it much cleaner than it had been earlier, he decided he would man up and ask Dean to indulge him in his… proclivities.

He found the older man in the kitchen, fervently stirring a spicy-smelling pot of chili on one of the back burners of the stove. “Deano?” he said softly, smiling when the man turned to him. “The bathroom is fucking spotless now. Can I run a quick errand? I’ll be gone for like forty minutes, tops.”

To be honest, Dean didn’t really like the thought that Aidan was just going to skip out on him just a couple hours away from their dinner party, but since the younger man was one of the worst cooks on the face of the earth, there was nothing he could actually help Dean with. “Yeah, sure, but hurry back, okay?” he said finally. “I’ll need you to set the table and stuff. Actually,” he added, realizing something, “we need some more beer. Grab a couple six packs, please.”

“Roger,” Aidan said cheerfully, kissing Dean’s cheek before heading out the door and to his car.

Dean spent a couple minutes trying to guess what the hell Aidan was up to, but he had found that logic was not the best predictor when it came to his boyfriend, so he stopped trying to figure it out. He’d find out soon enough when the younger man came home--Aidan was awful at keeping secrets, and tended to keep them in for about ten minutes, tops. He went back to working on his chili, silently cursing himself for inviting so many people. They could have just invited a couple people and be done with it, but no, they had gotten into the social stress of thinking about who would be insulted if they weren’t invited when others were, and it turned out they had too many damn friends on the cast.

After another ten minutes, Dean was able to leave the pot bubbling on the stove and go about the house to check that everything was clean. To his surprise, Aidan had managed to get the mirror looking far better than he had thought possible, and the counter around the sink looked relatively uncluttered. He made their bed, just in case anybody wanted to check out their house--he recognized he was being a little paranoid, but he was living with a boyfriend and hosting a dinner party, so he figured he had the right to be stressed. With their bedroom looking passably clean, he moved on to the living room and dining room, happy to find both of them looking pretty neat.

Everything seemed pretty much perfect, actually, until he wrinkled his nose, smelling a disgustingly cloying flowery scent. “Fuck,” he whispered, immediately lowering himself to the ground. He knew what this was, and he didn’t want a fucking concussion out of it.

* * *

 

Aidan returned home with two bags: one of beer, and the other a secret that was jammed into his pocket. He was feeling happy yet nervous about broaching the subject of the bag in his pocket to Dean, but when he went inside, all apprehension left. He could smell something burning, and when he got through the hall to the living room, he found Dean on the ground.

“Oh, babe,” he whispered, putting the beer down quickly and rushing to kneel at Dean’s head. “Are you awake yet?” When he didn’t get an answer, he ran his hands over his boyfriend’s head to check for bumps, breathing out a sigh of relief when he didn’t find any. “I’ll stay here with you, okay?” he said softly, unsure if Dean was able to hear him yet or not. Sometimes the older man was conscious enough to hear him but not quite cognizant enough to reply, so he kept up his soothing blabbering. “When you can get up, I’ll get you on the couch with a nice cup of tea, love, or I can be all manly and carry you to bed so you can nap. Won’t that be nice?”

Dean let out a quiet mumble, which sounded like a noise of agreement, and then cracked open one eye. “Some…” he began, and then cleared his dry throat. “Something’s burning, Aid.”

Aidan nodded, stroking his boyfriend’s hair gently. “Yeah,” he said simply, not making a move to get up. “We can either cancel the party or order delivery for it,” he suggested. “If you still want to do it, that’s fine, but nobody will be mad if we need to not do it.”

“Can I let you know in a couple hours?” Dean asked hopefully, pushing and pulling himself into a seated position that let him rest the weight of his torso on Aidan. “I need a shower and a nap before I can make any decisions.”

“Of course, babe,” Aidan assured him. “Here, let’s get you up and into the shower to start with.” He stood up slowly, pulling Dean with his to help support the older man, and then made his way to the bathroom, a strong arm around Dean’s waist. “Do you want me to stay with you, or are you okay?” he asked, once they were in the bathroom, Dean sitting on the toilet to rest and Aidan getting the water warmed up.

“I’ll be fine,” Dean mumbled, pulling off his shirt slowly. “Go take the burning stuff off the stove.”

 _Fuck_. Aidan had completely forgotten about the pot burning on the stove, his nose having adjusted to the smell as he worried over Dean. He dashed out to the kitchen and pulled the pot from the stove, turning off the burner as he did so. He was sure by the smell that the chili was a lost cause, so he dumped it in the bin and took out the trash so the smell would get out of the house. That taken care of, he scrubbed the pot clean and then took the carpet cleaner over to the living room to clean up there, humming cheerfully to himself the whole time.

By the time he was finished, the sound of the shower had stopped, and when he went to the bedroom, he found Dean asleep on top of the covers, wearing nothing but a loosely wrapped towel that was about to fall off his waist. Aidan smiled and slid the small bag from his pocket into a drawer, buried it under some socks, and then went to the bathroom to grab Dean’s clothes for the washing machine. Finally done with these little chores, he stripped down to nothing and snuggled up with his boyfriend for a nap.

* * *

When Dean cracked his eyes open next, his nausea was gone and his headache had settled into a dull pain, which would easily go away with some ibuprofen. Beside him, Aidan was sleeping noiselessly, his naked body curled against Dean’s. He grinned, loving these quiet moments where he could really feel how much he loved the younger man. The moment ended quickly, however, when he glanced past Aidan’s curls and saw the clock. “Aid!” he yelped, shaking the other man a little harder than he meant to. “It’s fucking five-thirty! People are coming in half an hour!”

That one exclamation roused the Irishman quicker than Dean had ever seen. “Shit,” Aidan hissed, standing up and throwing on his clothes. “Do you feel up to doing this, Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll order some delivery Chinese, you get dressed and then we’ll get the beer I bought into the fridge, okay?” Once he received a nod in return, Aidan hurried out of the room to find their collection of menus.

Dean moved at a slower pace, dragging his tired body out of bed and going to the closet to find clothes. It was March and getting chilly, so he picked out a cozy flannel and some of his nicer looking jeans and threw them on the bed before hunting through the drawers for underwear. He found a pair of boxer briefs easily enough and tugged them on slowly, adjusting himself in them before getting his jeans, shirt, and belt on. As he rolled up the sleeves on the shirt, he realized that the cold from outside was seeping into their house, probably through cracks or not-quite-sealed windows, and he decided that socks were in order.

Though they were both men, Aidan and Dean had clearly different socks. The younger man had brightly colored socks, and the older man had plain ankle-length ones. Despite Dean’s attempts at organizing their drawers, they always had a jumble of socks. Somehow, at the moment, the New Zealander found himself looking at a drawer that seemed to be all strangely patterned Aidan-socks. With a sigh, he began to dig through the drawer. He wasn’t planning to wear shoes, and he didn’t really want to visibly wear striped Christmas socks for his first real dinner party--especially not in March.

It was in all this digging that Dean found a small white bag, the logo on it informing him that it was from Kirkcaldie & Stains. Well, either he hadn’t looked through the drawer recently, or this was from his boyfriend’s mysterious outing earlier. He didn’t usually snoop, and he knew that Aidan had put it in the sock drawer to hide it, but the bag was in his hands and so damn tempting that Dean couldn’t help himself. He turned the bag over so its contents fell onto the top of the dresser.

Huh.

Logically, Dean knew this shouldn’t be surprising. After all, he knew from Aidan’s drunken confessions of the porn he watched that the younger man was into this sort of thing, but still, he hadn’t expected it to appear in their bedroom, especially since the Irishman had claimed he only liked to watch it, not to _do_ it.

The evidence was undeniable, though, because on the top of the dresser were three pairs of lacy women’s underwear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, cliffhanger! But yes I clearly just needed an excuse to write about hot men in lingerie, sorry not sorry


	7. Dinner Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sort of got a mind of its own so, I hope everyone is okay with dudes wearing ladies' underwear and fucking... also there were some feelings. I don't know how those happened either.

In his mind, Dean saw two simple reactions to finding this bag of lacy women’s underwear in their sock drawer. One, he could just put it back and wait for Aidan to bring it up himself. Two, he could tell Aidan he had found it and make him talk about it. Both of these seemed reasonable; the former would allow his sometimes sexually shy boyfriend to bring it up when he was ready, and the latter wouldn’t involve lying by omission.

The fact of the matter was, though, Dean wasn’t one for simple, normal reactions, and so he slid off he jeans and boxers and pulled on one of the pairs of women’s underwear, making sure they fit before he ripped off the tags. It took a bit of effort, but he finally got himself tucked comfortably into the blue lace. He then calmly replaced his jeans, and buried the remaining underwear in the sock drawer. He grinned to himself as he briefly imagined Aidan’s face upon finding out this evening exactly what Dean was wearing. The older man would make sure this happened in an exciting situation--all it would take was a few well-placed innuendos while cleaning up from the party and dragging the Irishman onto the couch, and Aidan would be tearing off his pants in no time.

Not wanting his jeans to slide down and expose his lacy secret to all his friends, Dean dug a belt out of the closet and put it on, cinching it tightly. Finished, he finally found some normal white socks and was soon back downstairs with his boyfriend. “Did you order food?” he asked, brushing his lips across Aidan’s cheek as the younger man put a pile of plates on the dining room table.

Aidan nodded, turning to return Dean’s kiss. “Yeah, it should get here right about when people start arriving. I’m thinking people can serve themselves here, get beer from the fridge, and then we can all sit around in the living room.”

“Yeah, that sounds easier than getting everyone around the table,” Dean said, curling himself into Aidan’s side and smiling happily. His boyfriend was cozily warm and smelled nice, and if they weren’t expecting people for dinner in just a few minutes, he would have dragged the younger man back to bed for more cuddling. “I know this isn’t the party we were planning, but I think it will still be good,” he added.

Aidan nodded, wrapping an arm around Dean. “I love you,” he said softly, placing a kiss on the top of the older man’s head. He smiled when Dean looked up with a somewhat confused expression, clearly wondering where that had come from. “I just felt like reminding you,” he explained, kissing his boyfriend’s forehead, then nose, and then lips.

It was times like this when Dean felt he was the luckiest, happiest man in the world. “I love you too,” he mumbled, burying his head in Aidan’s chest. Though his friends sometimes teased him for his height, he loved being short enough to be utterly enveloped by his boyfriend. “Hey, babe,” he started, tilting his head up to look into Aidan’s eyes, deciding he should confess what he had found and put on just a few minutes earlier. Before he could even begin to explain, however, the doorbell rang and they broke apart.

“Later, yeah?” Aidan said, smiling as he went to the door. A few seconds later, Adam, Luke, and Orlando had made their way into the dining room, greeting Dean loudly and cheerfully.

“Hey, guys,” Dean called out warmly. “So we, uh, kind of burned dinner, but some Chinese food should get here in a few minutes. There’s beer in the fridge, though, if you want it!”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Deano, did you let Aidan cook?” he asked, clearly shocked.

“No, it’s not like that, it just… burned,” Dean answered with a shrug. “I wouldn’t let Aidan cook for you guys, Ads, give me a little credit.”

“Hey!” Aidan yelled, coming into the room. “There seems to be an implication there that I can’t cook.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Aidan, baby, you can’t,” he said bluntly, making everyone, Aidan included, crack up. “Seriously, guys, grab some beers and hang out in the living room.” So soon after a seizure, he didn’t really feel like drinking, so he took a Coke for himself and made his way to the couch, where Orlando sat next to him, sipping at a cold beer.

“What have you been up to?” the Englishman asked cheerfully.

“Honestly? Mostly just work and sleeping,” Dean answered, making a face. “I mean, I love filming and stuff, but I want some time to do other things too.”

Orlando nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, our breaks tend to be spread out,” he agreed. “Is Aidan sticking around with you for the break at the end of this block?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “Well, sort of. He’s going to come meet my family and stay at my place for a few weeks, and then we’re going to Ireland for a while so I can meet his.”

The Englishman raised one eyebrow.  “You’re already meeting his parents?”

“Shut up, I’m stressed enough already.”

Their conversation was cut short by the doorbell, and soon the room was full of various cast members, all eating delivery food and talking loudly.

“You guys have a nice little place here,” James commented to Aidan as the two of them leaned against the counter in the kitchen--the only place quiet enough for a more subdued conversation. “You two seem pretty happy,” he added cautiously, not wanting to put his younger friend on the spot but wanting some details.

Aidan blushed. “We are,” he said quietly. “I’m happy but I’m scared because I don’t know if this can last. After this filming block, I’m taking him back home to meet my parents. They don’t even know I’m bi, Jimmy. I love Dean but I feel like after we finish filming it’ll all go to hell and then I’ll be alone on the other side of the world and I can’t take the thought of that.”

James was a little surprised at the burst of emotion from Aidan. His fellow countryman rarely showed negative emotions other than general grumpiness, and this was revealing a vulnerability that James hadn’t realized existed. In fact, it appeared that Aidan was close to tears; the multiple beers the younger man had downed in quick succession were probably bringing his fears to the surface. “Nothing is ever certain,” he said slowly. “I can’t promise everything will be great and you and Dean will get married and have a bunch of babies together, Aid, you know that. But there’s no use in freaking out over something that hasn’t happened. Your parents love you and at most will probably just be upset you didn’t tell them about your sexuality before. You love Dean and he loves you, so you’ll both fight to keep your relationship going, even when it’s hard.”

“I know that,” Aidan said miserably. “But I don’t feel it. All I feel is fear that I’m going to fuck this up, even though I’ve never wanted to fuck something up less than this. I think we want the same thing but Dean has a life without me, it’s just on hold while he’s here, and…”

“You have a life without him,” James interrupted firmly. “Back home, you have family and friends and all that shit. Even though you have that, you still want your life to include Dean. Just talk to him about some of this, Aidan. Stop assuming Dean wants to go back to his regular life that doesn’t include you. I know you’re young, but even you must know that communication is important in relationships. That’s sort of obvious as fuck.”

Aidan nodded, blushing again. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet. “I didn’t mean to freak out at you. You asked a polite question and I went all… emotions on you. I’ll keep my mouth shut next time.”

James just rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, you idiot,” he said fondly, giving Aidan a brief one-armed hug. “Just get your head out of your arse and talk to your boyfriend like a grown-up.”

“Okay, okay, I will,” Aidan grumbled, punching James in the arm lightly. “I am a grown-up. I have dinner parties and everything.”

James laughed and wandered back to the party, giving Aidan a chance to collect himself before going back into the commotion.

* * *

It was getting late by the time the last guests left the house--Graham and Richard, being polite men, had stayed to help clean up the beer bottles and plates. Dean was happy that everything as already in the bins outside or in the dishwasher, as he could immediately collapse on the couch. “That wasn’t too bad,” he said to his boyfriend, who was puttering around the living room. “You look a little wound up, though, babe.”

“Yeah, I just…” Aidan couldn’t help himself; he had a big mouth and didn’t even mean to blurt out, “My parents don’t know I’m bi.”

Dean stared. That was not what he had expected to come out of the younger man’s mouth at all. “Um, okay?” he said, then mentally cringed, knowing that wasn’t the right response. “Are you worried they’ll disapprove?” He knew Aidan’s family was Catholic, but wasn’t sure if they were strict or not.

Aidan shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I’m taking you home to meet them and I don’t even know what I’ll say. ‘This is Dean, he’ll be sharing my bed during this visit, because, oh yeah, I fuck men’ won’t go over well.”

“You fuck men?” Dean repeated incredulously, unable to stop himself from getting upset. “A few hours ago you were talking about how you fucking love me, and now I just share your bed because you like dick?”

“Dean, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? I’m not going to drag my ass to the other side of the goddamn planet if I’m some guy you fuck that you can’t even tell your parents about.”

Aidan glared at his boyfriend. “You want me to call my parents right now to tell them how much I’m in love with you?” he asked, voice rising with emotion. “Do you want me to explain to them that I feel all panicked inside when I think about moving home after filming ends for good, while you’re still over here? Or should I talk about how I’m scared you’ll be done with me once you go back to your life and remember there are men out there other than the _Hobbit_ cast and I’ll be left in the fucking dirt?”

“Aidan,” Dean whispered, standing so he could embrace his stiff-postured boyfriend. “Babe. I’m sorry, I…” He cast around for the right words. “I remember there are other men out there, you know. It’s just that none of them measure up,” he explained, voice muffled by Aidan’s shirt. “You don’t have to say all that to your parents. You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“No, I sort of said that like a twat,” Aidan admitted with a strained laugh. “You’re not some man I fuck, Dean. I’ll talk to them before we go over there, tell them what you are to me. Parents just want their kids to be happy, right? You make me really, really happy. I bet they’ll like you.”

Dean smiled. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I bet so.” He unwrapped himself from Aidan and tugged the younger man’s hand to bring him to the couch, where he snuggled into his side. “I love you as much as you love me,” he admitted. “I think Brett’s going to scream if I keep talking about you whenever he calls.”

Aidan laughed, louder and happier this time. “Well, I am pretty great,” he replied, pulling Dean into his lap and nuzzling at his neck. “I can understand a need to wax poetic about my beauty and intelligence.”

“I told him about the chicken stir-fry incident and he said that if I still love you after that, it’s got to be the real thing,” Dean said with a smiled, leaning back into Aidan’s chest and bringing a hand up to the younger man’s curls. “Can we count what we just had as a fight so we can have make-up sex?” he asked hopefully. “You got a little yell-y and I was bitchy and twisted your words, so I think it was a fight, which means we should clearly fuck on the couch.”

With a happy groan, Aidan shook his head. “I think make-up sex should be somewhere more exciting,” he argued. “We’ve had sex on the couch before. I vote floor or kitchen counter or back porch.”

Dean turned his head to stare at Aidan. “I am not going to get fucked on the back porch,” he said, the firmness of his statement a little compromised by his breathiness. “We have neighbors, Aid.”

Aidan grinned and kissed Dean’s neck. “Well, the floor’s right here,” he pointed out, gathering his boyfriend into his arms and moving them to the floor, where he spread himself out on top of Dean and kissed him deeply. “I’m thinking we should stage a fight once every couple weeks,” he said, putting his weight on one hand so the other could pull the older man’s shirt up. “Maybe next Saturday you can grouch at me about the toilet seat and we can have sex on the counter.”

Squirming under Aidan to get some friction, Dean vaguely noticed a different texture than his usual boxers or boxer briefs. He froze, realizing what it was. “Um, Aidan?” he said, voice suddenly a bit squeaky.

Immediately, Aidan stopped, sitting up on his knees and removing his hands and mouth from his boyfriend’s tantalizing skin. “Did I do something you don’t want?” he asked worriedly. “I’m sorry, we can stop and just cuddle or kiss.”

Dean shook his head so hard he felt a little dizzy. “No, we should definitely keep going,” he assured the younger man. “It’s just that I, uh, found something?”

Aidan looked down at Dean, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “What?” he asked. “I don’t understand.”

With a guilty laugh, the New Zealander shrugged. “If we keep going, you’ll understand. I just thought I should warn you.”

“I am so confused, but if you want to keep going, I’m not about to say no,” Aidan replied, bending back down to pull Dean’s shirt up and suck at the older man’s nipples, grinning around the hardening flesh when his boyfriend bucked up underneath him. Whatever Dean’s cryptic little secret was, it didn’t seem to be affecting his libido. “Sit up,” he gasped as he pulled himself away, helping Dean pull his torso off the ground so they could get his shirt off.

They were too wound up to undo the buttons of the flannel shirt, so they worked together to just pull the warm fabric over the older man’s head. Once the shirt was off and thrown somewhere to the side, Dean fell back against the floor with a grunt, tugging at Aidan’s sweater as he did so. “Please,” he whined. “Come on, Aid, want you to fuck me right now, babe, please.” He knew full well that saying that sort of thing would get his boyfriend and himself naked within a minute--Aidan was a sucker for Dean’s desperation.

Aidan grinned down at Dean and stripped off his own sweater easily, and then went to work attacking his boyfriend’s belt and jeans. Attacking was really the only was to describe it; he was yanking fabric around without any finesse or grace, but eventually he got the job done, and opened Dean’s zipper. He was about to yank down the older man’s boxers and jeans in one go, when he realized that he was not seeing boxers through the gap provided by the undone zipper. “Uh,” he said simply, too dumbfounded to actually form words.

“Yep,” Dean said, nodding with a matter-of-fact expression. “I found that. I was looking for socks and then _boom_ there was this. I assume it’s for me, since you talked about liking it in porn, and, you know, I thought it would be fun to wear tonight as a bit of a surprise. Is this… good?” Suddenly, he felt a little unsure of this plan. Maybe it had been an invasion of Aidan’s privacy to do this without talking to him first. Maybe the younger man had bought the underwear to use as a fantasy… masturbation aid or something, and didn’t actually want Dean in it. Shit, it was entirely possible that Aidan wanted to wear it himself, and didn’t want it on Dean. He felt a flush creeping up his face, feeling like a complete nincompoop for putting it on.

Aidan stared down at his boyfriend, overcome with amazement that the older man had actually put the underwear on after finding it, rather than freaking out. He could tell that his silence was making Dean regret the decision, though, so he bent down and kissed the Kiwi roughly for a few seconds before pulling back. “I am going to fuck you so hard,” he growled, working on getting Dean’s jeans down, but leaving the underwear on. “And you’re going to keep wearing this the whole time,” he added, plucking at the waistband with one hand as the other got the frustrating denim off his boyfriend and threw it to the side.

Dean groaned loudly, no longer worried about how Aidan felt--the younger man was more than showing his approval. “Fuck, yes,” he hissed, popping Aidan’s jeans open easily and shoving them down along with his boxers. He could only reach to get them to mid-thigh from his position, but Aidan was happy to get them the rest of the way off. Dean reached one hand down to adjust himself in the underwear, as his previous position in it didn’t work so well when he was hard. He carefully pulled his erection up so that it stuck out of the top of the lacey fabric, and then pulled Aidan down on top of him, his hands clutching the younger man’s ass to help him grind up into him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dean,” Aidan moaned, leaning down to suck and bite at Dean’s collarbone. “I am so fucking turned on right now,” he added, thrusting down and shuddering as his cock slid against the fabric of the women’s underwear. “Is there lube in here?” he asked, looking around them wildly. There was an end table by the couch that had a drawer, and that seemed to be the best bet, so he crawled away from Dean to look inside the drawer. “Thank God,” he mumbled, finding a small tube of lube--the type given away by safe sex groups--and two condoms, one of which he took with him along with the lube.

Dean was delighted when Aidan crawled back to him, especially since the younger man had found a condom and some lube, meaning they didn’t have to pause to go get supplies or move to the bed. “I can’t believe you’re going to fuck me with these on,” he groaned. “I feel so sleazy. In a good way,” he added quickly, not wanting Aidan to think too hard about that and get worried he was being demeaning or something. “C’mon, open me up,” he said, leaning up to nip sharply at one of his boyfriend’s nipples.

“Yes, sir,” Aidan replied with a grin, which turned into a gasp when Dean’s teeth sunk into his sensitive skin. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, opening the little packet of lube and getting his fingers nice and slick before he pulled the lacy underwear to the side and pressed two fingers into Dean’s body. “God, Dean, you are so hot like this,” he told the older man throatily. “Can’t believe you, baby, making my guilty fantasies come true.”

Dean released Aidan’s nipple from between his sharp teeth so he could strain his neck to bring his boyfriend in for a kiss. “Always willing to make your fantasies come true,” he gasped out once they broke apart for air, starting to ride the Irishman’s fingers with little hitches of his hips. Recognizing this hint that he was ready for more, Aidan slid in a third finger, and Dean moaned loudly. “Almost ready,” he promised his boyfriend. “Just a little more and you can fuck me right through the floor, babe.”

Aidan bit Dean sharply in the neck as his cock practically _throbbed_ at the words coming from the older man’s mouth. “Yeah,” he muttered, licking at the sweaty skin in front of his lips. “I’ll make you come so hard you forget your own name,” he promised, not caring how cheesy that sounded; when he was this turned on, he ceased to think about whether he sounded like he was in a bad porno. After stretching Dean for a couple more minutes, he looked into the New Zealander’s eyes hopefully. “Ready?”

Dean nodded immediately, twisting a little underneath Aidan in excitement as the younger man sat up on his knees to roll on the condom. He drew his own knees up to his chest, making it easy for his boyfriend to pull one onto his shoulder and let the other slide around his waist. When Aidan sunk into him, he let out a loud grunt and began to claw at the pale skin of his back. “Fuck,” he moaned, back arching a little to try to get Aidan all the way inside of him faster. “Yeah, Aid. Come on, you can go faster. You know you want to,” he added in a wheedling, breathless tone.

That was all it took for Aidan to snap his hips all the way forward, burying himself in Dean’s body. “God, Dean,” he whispered, beginning to rock his hips. While he left one hand braced on the floor to support himself, the other made its way to the older man’s stomach and slid down to cup at the front of the lace underwear. “You’re so fucking hot in these. I want to see you in them all the time, babe. Want to snuggle you in them and fuck you in them and lick you through them and watch you get off in them.”

It was difficult for Dean not to show his surprise at Aidan’s words, but the hand rubbing at his erection through the novel texture of lace helped, as did his desire for the younger man to go wild at the sight of him; if wearing women’s underwear got Aidan this worked up, he was happy to do it. “Yeah?” he groaned, thrusting back against his boyfriend and gasping when the head of his cock drove directly into Dean’s prostate. “I can do all of that with you, babe,” he promised, using one hand to pull gently at the younger man’s hair. “Fuck, if it gets you this hot, I’ll wear these anywhere you want.”

The promise from Dean just made Aidan buck harder into the warm, willing body below him, thrusts speeding up as he found a good rhythm. “Fuck, Dean,” he growled, unable to express what Dean’s agreement to fool around with this kink meant to him--at least, unable to express it while balls deep in the older man’s body. “Love you so much,” he said finally, feeling that helped explain how his boyfriend was making him feel. “So fuckin’ much,” he added in emphasis as his hips slammed forward to drive his aching cock deeper into Dean.

“I love you too,” Dean whispered, carefully sliding his leg from Aidan’s shoulder so that he could wrap both legs around the younger man’s waist and yank him down for a kiss with on hand, the other joining the hand on the front of his underwear to make it rub harder. He was now arching with every thrust from his boyfriend, and kept pulling back from their kiss to moan loudly. “Almost there,” he gasped out, head tipping back as he panted loudly. “Just need a little more, Aid, come on, babe, please, m’almost there…” As he often did when close to orgasm, Dean descended into barely comprehendible babble, just begging Aidan for _more_ so he could get off.

Despite the fact Dean couldn’t vocalize his needs, after months of dating and fucking, Aidan knew what to do. He didn’t want to pull the older man’s cock from it’s lacey confines, because he loved that thin blue fabric on his boyfriend too much, so he squeezed and rubbed hard through it, thrusting with abandon. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Dean, in that underwear, getting all sexy just for me. Fuck, babe, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he whispered, and then bit down sharply on Dean’s shoulder.

That was all it took, and Dean was holding onto Aidan as if his life depended on it as he came, his entire body shaking with pleasure as his semen dirtied his stomach and slid down to the underwear. He was pretty sure it was the sight of his come on the blue lace that did it for Aidan, because the younger man let out a loud gasp before practically screaming Dean’s name as he gave a few final thrusts and filled the condom.

It was all Aidan could do to lower himself gently onto Dean rather than just collapsing onto him. “Holy fuck,” he said after a moment, still trying to get his breathing back to normal. “I am no longer embarrassed about buying those. That was a good decision on my part. Oh my God.”

Dean laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Aidan and holding him close. “Yeah, I was a little weirded out when I saw them, honestly, but they aren’t uncomfortable and you are so turned on by them, I am pretty happy.” He turned his head to kiss Aidan’s hair, smiling contentedly. “Do you really want me to wear them to snuggle and to get blowjobs and to do all sorts of naughty things with you?” he asked, thinking about the words that had tumbled from Aidan’s mouth during sex.

The thought of what he had said made Aidan blush, but he nodded into Dean’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he answered, words muffled as he spoke with his mouth against his boyfriend’s skin. “I mean, if you’re up for it. We only do as much as you want, babe. And I feel like… you can tell me a fetish or something? We could do that. You know, a sort of give-and-take would be fun. I confessed that I like this and you indulged me, so it can go the other way, too.”

Dean grinned even wider. “I’ll think about it,” he promised.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I start class in a week, so I won't be updating as much then, as I'll be splitting my time between homework, doctors, and my two WIPs. But don't worry, chapters will be coming, just slowly.

The next morning, Dean woke up naked in bed, happily spooned by Aidan. He ran a hand down Aidan’s pleasantly hairy arms, snuggling back into the younger man. Last night had been wonderful--despite a slight headache at the start of the party, he’d had a ton of fun with his friends, and then the post-party sex… well, he would surprise Aidan with lingerie more than once in the future. He also felt so unbelievably loved after Aidan’s somewhat yelled confessions about his feelings for Dean. Just knowing that the Irishman had similar fears to his own gave him hope that they would both work to keep this relationship going after filming wrapped up on the _Hobbit_ films.

After a few minutes, his excitement over basically everything from the previous evening made him too jumpy to stay in bed, so he carefully unwrapped Aidan’s arms from his waist so as not to wake him and padded to the bathroom to pee, brush his teeth, and wash his face, before coming back to the bedroom to pick out a pair of black pants--paired with his normal underwear, this time--and a cozy sweater. Yawning, he went downstairs to start a pot of coffee for himself and the kettle to take Aidan some tea in bed.

As he waited for their various drinks to heat up, he thought idly about what Aidan had told him the previous night--that he would be happy to try out one of Dean’s fetishes or kinks after Dean indulging him in his. Despite his dildo collection that Aidan had found, he wasn’t going to ask the younger man to play with those with him. For one thing, “collection” was a strong word for three dildos with a couple different textures, and for another, he liked those for masturbation and didn’t really like the idea of doing that with his boyfriend. He wasn’t really sure of what he liked that he wanted to try in real life rather than just fantasizing about and watching porn of.

The problem for Dean was that there were a fair few safety concerns he had to think of due to epilepsy. He couldn’t be tied up, because he could literally pull his shoulder or leg out its socket if he seized while in strong restraints. Though he knew Aidan would be quick in getting him out if he needed, it would only take a few seconds for an injury to happen. His breathing was a problem during his seizures, so anything that could possibly impede his air intake was completely out of the question. He liked a little pain to mix with his pleasure, but anything sharp or hot near his body could turn into a disaster, and he worried about any excessive pain triggering a seizure. Well, he didn’t have to bring it up right away, he realized, so he could do some research to get ideas.

Once he had mugs of tea and coffee to take back to the bedroom, he wandered upstairs slowly, just enjoying the smell of his coffee and the silence of the morning. “Good morning,” he said softly as he walked into the room, taking a second to admire Aidan as he lay wrapped up in sheets, the sun shining in through the window and illuminating his beautiful body. Before the younger man could wake up, he put their morning drinks down and grabbed his camera from the top of the dresser to snap a quick picture of his gorgeous boyfriend. He then put the mugs down and sat on the bed, rubbing Aidan’s back lovingly. He bent down to kiss the younger man’s ear as he heard mumbles from the general pillow vicinity. “Hey, love,” he whispered into Aidan’s ear.

“Good morning, babe,” Aidan muttered, looking blearily up at the New Zealander. “Is there a reason you woke me up? Is it a workday and I forgot? I don’t want to go to work, call me in sick.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s not a workday,” he answered, tweaking Aidan’s nose. “I was thinking of making a nice breakfast, and you need to be up for that. Plus we both slept for a few hours yesterday. We’re going to fuck up our sleep schedule this weekend if you don’t get your cute little arse up, Aid.”

Aidan nodded. “That seems reasonable,” he admitted, sitting up so he could take a sip from the mug of tea on the bedside table. “You look good this morning,” he added with a bit of a leer. “You and skinny pants are a really good combination. I definitely approve of this look.”

“I live to please,” Dean said cheerfully, sitting next to Aidan and leaning against him as he sipped his coffee. “How are you this morning?

 Aidan chewed his lip for a moment before starting to speak. “Before I fell asleep, I was thinking about coming out. To my parents,” he clarified, looking down at his mug instead of at Dean. “They should know before we go to stay with them and I want them to get used to the idea before they meet you, and this filming block ends in a couple weeks, so time’s ticking away, you know? I don’t think I’ll ever be really ready, and I’ll probably lose my nerve if I don’t do it so… pass me my phone?”

Hesitantly, Dean handed over Aidan’s phone from where it lay on the bedside table. “Look, babe, I don’t want you to be doing this because I pressured you and tried to make you feel guilty about it,” he said slowly, not liking the way Aidan didn’t crack a smile as he scrolled through his contacts. “I can stay in a hotel while we see your parents, or in a different room, if you aren’t ready.” He didn’t really want to do that; it wasn’t that he liked the idea of being some sort of shameful secret, but he would respect Aidan’s decision if the younger man decided he needed more time. “I don’t want you to drag yourself through this if it’s going to upset you.”

Aidan shrugged, finger hovering over the button to initiate the call. “I need to do it sometime, though. I feel like shit lying to them, and I want to be able to kiss you and hold your hand or whatever while we’re there.” Before Dean could say anything more to talk him out of this, he hit the call button and brought the phone to his ear, taking deep breaths all the while.

“Aidan! Hello!” His mother answered almost right away, her voice cheerful and bright. “Let me find your father, he’ll be so happy you called, dear. We’re so excited that you’re coming home in a few weeks, you know,” she said, talking to him as she walked through the house to find her husband. “Oh, here’s your father. It’s Aidan!” she added, not bothering to move the phone from her mouth. “Here, let me put you on speaker.”

“How are you doing?” his father asked, sounding pleased that Aidan had called. “You and your friend are coming to see us soon, aren’t you?”

It was now or never, Aidan decided, steeling himself for any fallout, he gripped Dean’s hand tightly and said, “Yeah. About that, though, uh, Dean is sort of not just a friend? He’s my, er, boyfriend. A boyfriend of the serious variety, actually,” he added, looking and sounding more and more nervous with every word that passed his lips.

“Boyfriend?” his mother repeated slowly, as if she had never heard the word before. “Are you saying that you’re a homosexual? Because you dated a lot of nice girls in the past, Aidan, and maybe it’s just your new group of friends getting you all confused about these things…”

Aidan could practically hear his father rolling his eyes as he sighed. “For God’s sake, dear, haven’t you heard of bisexuals? I don’t go on the internet and even I’ve heard of them. Lord,” he added, clearly talking to Aidan now. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one in the house who reads the paper these days.”

“You learned about bisexuals in the paper?” Aidan asked incredulously.

“Yes, it was some sort of article about a rights group. Did you know there are also people who have surgery to change from a man to a lady?”

“Yes, Da.”

“Well, it shocked me, let me tell you. It made me think of that film, _Some Like It Hot._ I thought that was a good film. Now, this boyfriend of yours, how old is he?”

“He’s about six years older than me.”

“Oh, I bet he’s mature then,” Aidan’s mother piped up, seeming to have gotten over the shock of all of this. “Does he know how to cook?”

“Yeah, he can cook,” Aidan said, surprised at how well this whole thing seemed to be going.

“Well, that’s good. You need someone who can cook. Heaven knows you can't cook a single thing, Aid. I don’t know how you get all your nutrients, living alone without being able to really cook anything. Have you been eating your vegetables?”

“Ma! I’m a grown man now, so, yes, I’m eating vegetables. Can we concentrate on the boyfriend thing, please?” There was now a note of desperation in Aidan’s voice, which Dean found endlessly amusing. “His name is Dean--“

“We know that, you said you were coming with your friend Dean,” his father interrupted, causing Aidan’s eye to start twitching a little.

“Yes, well. His name is Dean, and he’s in the _Hobbit_ with me. He’s a photographer, and, yes, he cooks well. I’ve been dating him for ten months.”

“Maybe you are a homosexual,” his mother said thoughtfully. “You know, you never dated girls for very long. Are you positive you’re bisexual?”

Aidan took a deep breath, remembering why he didn’t call home often. His parents were wonderful and loving, but tended to be more than a little frustrating at times. “Yes, Ma, I’m sure I’m bi. I just fit better with Dean that I have with the women I’ve dated. That doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

“If you say so dear.” Mrs. Turner sounded less than convinced. “Now, you said when you were lying to us about your relationship that he is from New Zealand,” she said, not giving Aidan time to defend himself regarding the allegation of lying. “I heard they’re going to let homosexuals marry there, and I think that would be nice, don’t you, dear?”

“We’ve dated for ten months, Ma, I’m not going to marry him yet!”

By this point, Dean had buried his face in a pillow to stifle his laughter. This was some quality entertainment here. He almost wished he were filming it.

“Keep it in mind, though. When you visit, though, I hope you aren’t expecting to share a room. That would be very inappropriate, seeing as you don’t seem to have any intention to marry him.”

“We already live together in Wellington, Ma, I don’t see how us not sharing a room while we’re visiting you is going to change anything.”

“Don’t argue with your mother, Aidan,” his father said quickly. “Take it from me, you’ll never win. Hopefully you wouldn’t be doing anything that needed sharing a room while in our house, would you? That would be very rude, you know.”

Aidan’s face, Dean noted, was turning a nice shade of scarlet. He wondered what the man’s parents were saying, as the volume was too low for him to hear with the phone pressed up to the younger man’s face.

“Da, please don’t,” Aidan mumbled. “It’s fine, we won’t share a room. Oh, crap, I think I burned some bacon!” he yelled suddenly. “So much for breakfast in bed for Dean! I’ve got to go, love you!” he said quickly, hanging up as soon as possible.

Now that Aidan was no longer on the phone, Dean burst out laughing. “I think I love your parents already,” he said breathlessly between uncontrollable giggles.

“Shut up, you won’t like them as much once they interrogate you on your intentions,” Aidan muttered, but he was smiling all the same. “Fuck, I thought they were going to hate me for that, but it went well. My father told me that we shouldn’t want to share a room when we visit because anything that you do in a shared room is not okay to do in their house.”

That only made Dean laugh harder. “You know,” he said, once he had calmed down and could speak again, “my parents are letting us share a room, but I’m pretty sure they expect the no-sex thing.”

“I would never have sex in your parents’ house!” Aidan protested, looking a little faint at the mere notion. “That would be very, very wrong. God. No. I just want to snuggle up with you at night and stuff.”

“You’re sweet,” Dean told his boyfriend, leaning his head on the younger man’s shoulder. “Since you yelled about burning bacon, do you want to make me some?” he asked hopefully, laughing at Aidan’s expression. “Okay, no, I get it. Let’s just stay here for a bit, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for happy coming out bits. I can't help it; mine with my brother was "I know. Duh." and I really like for LGBT people to have positive experiences. Side note, Aidan's dad is not trying to be rude about trans* people, he's just uninformed. My parents were very confused when they first heard about trans* people too.
> 
> Otherwise, I'm struggling to think of a kink or fetish for Dean, so any suggestions are welcome :)


	9. Second Try at an Important First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I take a while to update! My health problems mean I have to sleep at least ten hours a night, plus I don't have tons of energy, so it can take a bit to churn out a chapter. Also, I had some writer's block. Hope it was worth the wait, though!

It took Dean four days and a rather embarrassing amount of internet porn (erased from his history due to an irrational fear of it being found) to think of some kink ideas to try, and another two days to find the courage to bring them up to Aidan. He wasn’t sure how to do it casually, though, which is how they ended up in this situation: Aidan sitting on the couch and looking up at Dean as the older man stood in front of him like a parent giving a lecture. The Irishman looked confused at Dean paced a little in front of him, mustering his courage.

“So, um, sex,” he said finally, pleased that Aidan was so understanding of his awkwardness that he didn’t laugh. “Remember how you said that thing? About how you’d do something for me since I did that, you know, lingerie thing for you? I thought about it a lot and looked stuff up on the internet. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t think I can do, like getting tied up and stuff, since it wouldn’t be safe, but I have some ideas.”

Aidan nodded encouragingly when his boyfriend paused, not saying anything yet.

“Do you know what, uh, cock rings are? Those look sort of exciting,” Dean mumbled, blushing. He suddenly felt a lot more understanding of Aidan’s embarrassment during their talks about sex. “Or, like, me on top. I know that was awful the time we tried it, but maybe it would be better?” Awful was a generous way to put it. Despite Dean’s attempts to make it good, Aidan had been so uncomfortable to the point where he couldn’t keep it up and they had to give up on any sex for the night. Dean, for one, was still pretty embarrassed over the memory.

“I’d be willing to try again,” Aidan assured his boyfriend. “I think I was a little too stressed and sort of freaked out and couldn’t relax which didn’t really help. If you don’t want to do that right away, though--that was really upsetting for you, and I don’t this to make you feel bad…” Dean had actually almost cried at that experience from the embarrassment of being unable to please Aidan and from the idea that he had hurt the younger man. “We could try role-play?” he suggested. Though he couldn’t imagine not feeling embarrassed and/or ridiculous in a role-play situation, he was willing to try it for Dean.

“What if I woo you or something and we try me on top?” Dean suggested hopefully. “If there’s anything that would make you feel hotter or better about it, I’m happy to do that. We’ve got another week here before we head to my parents’ house and then to Ireland, so we’ve got some time. Or we can wait!” he added hastily. “I’m not saying we need to do things now!”

“Deano, you do not need to freak out this much,” Aidan said soothingly. “Just… be natural. I don’t need any ‘wooing’ or whatever. We should be a little more low-key this time, and not build it up so much. Eat dinner, snuggle up, drink a bit of wine, make out, and fuck. None of the ‘okay, we’re going to fuck, and Aidan it’s okay, it’s your first time with a dick in you,’ stuff that we did last time, because I think that was what got me so tense.”

With a long, relieved sigh, Dean nodded. “Okay. I’m still going to be romantic, though. I want to show how romantic I can be so that you can honestly tell your mom how great I am,” he added with a smile. “I’ll buy some nice wine, which hopefully someone can help me with, light some candles, make you something nice… it’ll be great. Look forward to it, babe.”

Aidan just stood up and kissed his boyfriend. “I’m going to love it,” he promised.

* * *

Luckily for Dean, Richard and James were happy to take him wine shopping, and he found himself at a very nice liquor store on Tuesday evening, after a day of work that was a little shorter than usual.

“This is so sweet,” James said cheerfully as they walked into the shop. “I bet Aidan’s going to love this. You two are so domesticated now, with your dinner parties and your attempts at drinking nice wine.”

Richard nodded in agreement as they headed to the wine section, past the areas of hard liquor and fancy champagnes and port, which Dean had definitely heard of and was pretty sure was kind of close to wine. “Graham told me you’re going to meet each other’s parents over the break,” he commented casually. “That’s a pretty big thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly, looking at the labels on bottles of red wine without really understanding them. “I mean, his parents seemed okay when he told them he was dating a guy and stuff, and my family is really excited to meet him, but it’s pretty scary, I guess. I’ll probably fuck it up somehow.” Despite how excited he was about a romantic evening and the upcoming break, Dean was starting to get worried about the whole meet-the-parents thing.

“Just don’t tell them about your sex life and don’t insult their house,” Jimmy said, rolling his eyes as he read the labels with a more critical eye than the Kiwi. “You make Aidan happy, so I think they’ll like you.”

Dean shrugged. “I’ll probably have a seizure and pee on their carpet,” he said gloomily, already imagining the worst-case scenario.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Richard cut in firmly. “You’ll be fine. Now, these wines are pretty good,” he said, efficiently changing the subject and pulling two bottles off the shelf. “I’ve had both before, and I really like them. Graham preferred this one,” he added, holding one out in front of the other. “It depends what you’re having with it, though. What are you cooking?”

“Steak,” Dean answered meekly, feeling appropriately chastised for whining about being scared of meeting Aidan’s family. He knew he was overthinking it, and was glad Richard had made him stop. “I’m going to sear some thin-cut steak on the stove and make some roasted carrots with it.”

“This one,” Richard said decisively, handing him a bottle. “Pinot Noir is a good starter wine. When we get back from break, I’ll have you try other things. I think you’d enjoy a nice Malbec. Maybe the three of us and Aidan and Graham could have a nice dinner together to try some different wines,” he added thoughtfully.

James grinned. “Is there a reason everything you say involves Graham?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut the fuck up,” the Englishman muttered, making both Dean and James start to laugh. “Come on, let’s get this and go. Dean needs to cook and it’s already six.”

When Dean finally got back to his place, he found Aidan napping on the couch, a book on his chest. Rather than waking him, the older man just headed to the kitchen to begin cooking. Luckily, since his steak was thin-cut, it didn’t take him long to finish the meal. Once it was on the table with two candles lit and the wine poured, he went to get Aidan.

“Hey, love,” he whispered, running his fingers through the younger man’s curls. “I’ve got dinner made up.”

Aidan opened his eyes slowly, and sat up as he realized the smell of food was wafting from the kitchen. “You are basically the perfect boyfriend,” he mumbled, standing up and stretching. He smiled when he saw the candlelit table, and pulled Dean into a hug. “I love you,” he said. “I mean, not because you made me dinner, but because you care so much about doing sweet things for me.”

Dean couldn’t stop a smile from breaking out on his face. “Not to get too cheesy or anything, but you’re worth it,” he replied, breaking apart from Aidan so they could each take a seat. “Also, mention this delicious meal to your mother, and how it includes vegetables, so I can be in good standing with her.”

Picking up his fork, Aidan laughed. “I think she’ll already like you, since you’re so nice and cute, but I’ll definitely tell her that you feed me healthy things,” he answered, cutting into his steak happily. “Judging by a couple texts over the last week, she seems to suspect you’re effeminate, so she’ll be pleasantly surprised by all that manliness you exude.” He took a bite and immediately said, “Holy fuck, you are a really good cook.”

“How have you only realized this now?” Dean asked teasingly, brushing his feet against Aidan’s under the table. “My mom is so excited to meet you. She said Irish accents are very attractive, and when I texted her a picture of you, she told me your hair is cute. Bret wants to see if you’re as great as I keep saying you are, and I think my dad wants to know if you know anything about rugby.”

Aidan looked apprehensive. “Um, scrum. All Blacks. There’s a ball?” he offered up hopefully, happy that, even if he didn’t know shit about rugby, he made Dean laugh. “I know about football, though. Does he like football?”

“Football will do just fine,” Dean assured the younger man. “Anyway, they’ll like you because you’re sweet and I love you, which is good enough for them.” He just gave Aidan a smile as they lapsed into companionable silence as they ate. Unlike with many of his previous boyfriends, Dean felt perfectly comfortable just sitting with Aidan, and didn’t feel a need to fill the silence with inane babble or forced conversation.

When they were finished, Dean quickly put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher, not wanting to break the mood by taking time to wash them. He poured another glass of wine for each of them, and took Aidan’s hand to gently pull him upstairs toward the bedroom. “You’re gorgeous,” he said quietly, sitting on the bed and taking a sip of his wine. “Wait one sec,” he added, placing his glass on the bedside table and standing as Aidan sat. “I know you said no wooing, but you’re really attractive in candlelight,” he explained as he lit two thick candles, both with a faint vanilla scent, and turned out the lights.

Aidan blushed under all the attention and drank a little more wine, trying to keep himself from getting nervous. Despite Dean’s wonderful, loving intentions, all this build-up was reminding him of what they were about to do, and what a colossal failure their last attempt had been. “I love you,” he said quietly, wanting to emphasize that point in case they failed at this again. He put his wine glass down next to Dean’s and lay back on the bed, gently dragging his boyfriend with him.

 With a smile, Dean moved in to kiss Aidan softly, the flickering light of the room and their quiet voices making him feel less rushed than usual. He was pretty sure what would transpire that night would be more of the “making love” type of the sex than their usual “fucking but with lots of loving feelings” type. He slowly tangled one hand in Aidan’s dark, bouncy curls and deepened their kiss, moaning softly into it as warm hands slid below his waistband to knead his ass softly. He carefully wormed his hands between them to start undoing the buttons on the younger man’s shirt without breaking their kiss. “God, babe,” he whispered when his hands couldn’t fit between them comfortably and he had to pull back. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you in my life.”

Aidan blushed at Dean’s loving words, spoken so earnestly, and sat up a little and pulled his hands away from his boyfriend’s ass so they could get his shirt off and drop it on the floor. “I think I’m luckier,” he mumbled, and then began to kiss Dean’s neck as he slid his hands up under his shirt, pulling it up as his palms moved from the older man’s stomach to his chest. When he could no longer avoid it, he pulled his lips away and got Dean’s shirt over his head and onto the floor by his own before starting to suck and tease at the nipples in front of him.

Moaning softly, Dean slid a hand down his own stomach to get at the button and zip of his pants--in further attempts to seduce Aidan, he had worn the younger man’s favorite black skinny pants. Had he thought it through better, he would have realized before that moment how hard they would be to get off gracefully. Hesitantly, he pulled Aidan’s hair carefully so the younger man would back off his chest for a moment. “Let’s get pants off, yeah?” he suggested breathlessly, standing up and kicking off his shoes before sliding his pants and underwear down his legs and off, quickly followed by his socks. Aidan, on the other hand, managed to get his jeans and boxer briefs off while still lying on the bed, made all the more easy by his already bare feet. “Fuck, it’s cold,” Dean muttered, breaking the mood a little. “Is it okay if we get under the covers? We don’t have to do it all under there, but I think my dick is shrinking.”

Aidan laughed, happy that Dean had broken the too-serious feel of that evening. As much as he loved when his boyfriend got romantic, he had been tensing up by how different it was compared to their usual cheerful, less overt-feelings-y sex. He squirmed around to get the sheet and blanket out from under himself and waited for Dean to crawl on top of him before throwing the sheet over their bodies. He laughed even more once they were in the warm cocoon of blankets, his hands back on Dean’s butt. “I feel like I’m in a very sexy version of a blanket fort,” he informed the older man, who began to laugh as well.

“At least it’s a sexy one,” Dean said happily, lowering himself to lick and nip at Aidan’s sensitive nipples, delighting in the gasps the action elicited. “Want slow prep with this or with a blowjob?” he asked, not looking up from his task in case Aidan felt awkward answering.

Willing himself not to tense up at the thought of prep and then, well, bottoming, Aidan said, “I feel like, as a man, I should say blowjob.”

“Fuck what you think you should want,” Dean said firmly, still sort of talking to his boyfriend’s hardened nipples. “I want to know what you actually want. I love sucking you off, babe, but I love doing this, too. I just want to make you feel good.”

Aidan blushed, but this time answered honestly, “Keep doing this.”

“Mm, good,” Dean whispered, switching his mouth to Aidan’s other nipple. “Pass me the lube and a rubber, please?” he requested, ever so politely. Once he had both in hand, he set the condom down by Aidan’s open thigh and squirted some lube onto his fingers. He continued to play with his boyfriend’s nipples as his fingers moved toward the younger man’s entrance, massaging it gently to start, not dipping in. Once he felt Aidan’s body relax a little under the tips of his fingers, he carefully pressed one in, biting gently at the younger man’s nipples to distract him from any anxiety that might pop up. After a moment, though, he lifted his head from his boyfriend’s chest. “Babe? I need you to tell me if it’s too much, okay? It’s okay if you want me to stop. You say the word and we stop and do whatever you want.”

Aidan couldn’t help but roll his eyes, thrusting himself down on finger inside of him to prove a point. “Dean, I love you, and I know you’d stop the minute I said anything. I want to try this, and I promise I’ll say something if anything hurts. I’ll tell you to stop or slow down or whatever I need, but I’m good now. This is just like when you rim me, but, you know, with a finger.”

That was all Dean needed to hear to relax and keep going, carefully sliding a second finger into his boyfriend along with the first, laving attention on his nipples all the while. He pushed his fingers apart a little, taking note of how Aidan’s body responded--already the younger man seemed more relaxed than he had during their previous foray into Dean-on-top. With that in mind, he began to scissor his fingers wider and wider, until he could slip a third one in.

“This… this actually feels pretty good,” Aidan mumbled, one hand petting through Dean’s hair. He was relatively sure that at least half of the good feeling came from the lips and teeth on his nipples, but his boyfriend’s fingers inside him felt like when he got rimmed, but _more_. Aidan had gratefully noticed how the older man had kept his fingers shallow specifically to make prep feel more like rimming, rather than a deep reminder of ‘oh fuck he’s going to fuck me’ or some such.

Dean laughed and pulled away from Aidan’s chest. “It’s supposed to,” he replied cheerfully, keeping his fingers inside the Irishman, stretching all the while, as he moved up to kiss the younger man. “Love you,” he whispered as they parted after a few seconds, using the distraction of his words to get his little finger inside Aidan as well; it was better to be a little excessive in prep than to skimp on it. “God, babe, you’re so fucking amazing,” he added, kissing up his boyfriend’s jaw.

Though he noticed the fourth finger inside of him, Aidan didn’t mind it. At this point, he was more focused on how all the attention he was receiving showed just how fucking much Dean loved him. Though he always knew the older man loved him, this display of affection and caring almost took his breath away. “I love you so much,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “I think… I think I’m ready,” he mumbled, pressing down on the fingers inside of him to make sure. “Yeah, let’s… please?” he said, smiling when the New Zealander pulled back and looked at him as if examining him to check that he was sure.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, sitting back on his knees between Aidan’s thighs and carefully pulling his fingers out so that he could get the condom on and put a little lube on top of it. “Remember, you need to--”

“Tell you if it hurts or I want to stop, yes, I know,” Aidan said impatiently. Even though he was still a little hesitant about this whole thing, he was unable to keep his eager nature at bay. “Come on, O’Gorman, stick it in already!”

Dean snorted and pulled Aidan’s legs around his own waist for a better angle, and then positioned his erection and pushed in the tiniest bit, just the head popping in. Though it took a lot of deep breathing and will power, he stopped there. “Good?” he asked, voice a little strained.

“You… you don’t seem to understand what ‘stick it in’ now means,” Aidan replied, smirking. This was already better than their last try; Dean was inside him, he wasn’t freaking out, and he was definitely still hard. “Come on, I’m horny, babe. Get on with it!” He was finding that being his usual joking, demanding self was really helping him stay relaxed, and he was thus determined to keep it up.

With a brief roll of his eyes, Dean began to press into the tight body below him, keeping his gaze fixed on Aidan’s face for any signs of discomfort. Somehow, the younger man remained relaxed, just chewing his lip a little, but Dean didn’t want to stop and get chastised again, so he sank in until he was pressed right up against his boyfriend’s arse, all the way in. “Fuck,” he muttered, burying his face in Aidan’s neck and panting. “You are so tight. This might be over way too soon.”

“Two things,” Aidan began, breathing steadily to keep himself from getting stressed as he realize his boyfriend was balls-deep inside of him and this way happening. “One, I’m basically an arse virgin, of course I’m fucking tight. Two, if you ruin this with premature ejaculation, I’m going to be very, very grumpy,” he threatened, but he was unable to keep himself from laughing as he said it. “Come on, babe, can you start moving a little?” he asked when he felt Dean relax a little on top of him. “Don’t go crazy with porno thrusts or anything, but some rocking wouldn’t be unwelcome right now.”

Dean smiled into Aidan’s shoulder at how much happier and at ease the younger man felt this time, and began to rock his hips slowly, barely pulling out before pushing back in. He rolled his hips in a careful circle as he did so, searching for his boyfriend’s prostate. He had avoided that spot while opening Aidan up, sure that it would be so new and unlike rimming it would worry the younger man, but now he knew that he had been being a little over-cautious there, and that he was dying to make Aidan explode in pleasure.

Everything felt nice, Aidan decided. Nothing was driving him out of his mind in ecstasy, like how Dean was when they were in their usual roles as top and bottom, but he liked the stretch pretty well and his boyfriend’s moans kept him nice and hard. He was, after all, a sucker for Dean’s voice. Yes, everything was nice but not exactly mind-blowing, and he could maybe get off with some-- “Fuck!” he cried out suddenly, hips jerking reflexively. “Do that again,” he growled, hands pawing at Dean’s back. Okay, yeah, prostate. That was officially his new favorite gland. Holy motherfucking God, he now understood why his boyfriend liked being on the receiving end. “Yes,” he moaned as Dean’s cock hit him at that perfect angle again. “Faster?” he asked breathlessly.

The older man was pretty sure there was no better feeling than seeing Aidan so turned on from Dean being on top. “Yeah,” he grunted, pulling back farther and snapping his hips forward faster. “So good,” he mumbled, resting all his weight on one hand so he could bring the other between their bodies. Despite Aidan’s threats about being unhappy if this ended too quickly on Dean’s end, the Kiwi knew it was unavoidable. In his defense, he hadn’t topped in a long time, and Aidan moaning under him was getting him off. He began to stroke his boyfriend’s erection, spreading the fluid from the tip as he jerked him roughly.

“Oh fuck,” Aidan gasped, thrusting his hips awkwardly. He had no idea of which way he wanted to go, because the hand around his cock was amazing, but the thick dick inside of him was hitting him in just the right place with every stroke. “Yes, Dean,” he keened, yanking the older man’s hair with one hand to draw him into a sloppy kiss.

Despite his efforts to hold out, Dean simply couldn’t, and when Aidan tightened around him in pleasure after a particularly strong thrust, he lost it. He pulled out of their kiss to moan his boyfriend’s name as he thrust through his orgasm, trying to keep himself at the proper angle to make it good for Aidan. “Fuck, sorry,” he muttered when he finished and his boyfriend was still hard and wanting. “One sec,” he added, pulling out and sliding down Aidan’s body.

Aidan was all prepared for the oncoming blowjob, still a bit dazed from how it turned out getting fucked was pretty nice. He was rather surprised, though, when instead of wrapping around his cock, Dean’s mouth found its way to his open entrance and began to lick, hand still jerking him off. “Yeah, Dean,” he moaned, happy to find that rimming still felt great after getting fucked open. “Fuck,” he added, thrusting up into Dean’s hand as his balls started to draw up. “Almost,” he growled, biting his lip as he got closer and closer to the edge.

Dean knew that Aidan was about to come by the breathless, wordless gasps spilling from the younger man’s mouth, and he gave a particularly rough squeeze to the brunet’s cock and listened happily to the loud moans that came as Aidan came over Dean’s hand and his own stomach, his hole tightening a little around the older man’s tongue. The New Zealander kept stroking him as he came, but soon found himself at face level again, smiling into the younger man’s shoulder.

“That was good,” Aidan panted, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist and pulling him close. “Wow. I didn’t really see that coming. You’re good at that, you know.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, so I’ve heard,” he replied cheerfully, pulling off the condom and throwing it too the floor--okay, yes, gross, but he’d deal with it in the morning--before snuggling in close to Aidan. “Thanks for letting me try again,” he added quietly, knowing that it had taken trust from the younger man to do this. “I really, really love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

They curled closer into each other as the candle sputtered out, and fell asleep in a tangle of arms, legs, and matching sated smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo penises! I may update this before my other story, because I am excited to write various meeting-the-parents bits, but we'll see. I start class in two days, which will fuck up my writing schedule.


	10. Meeting the O'Gormans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter has mentions of (but no real descriptions or anything) of... bodily emissions. For some people, seizures can cause loss of bowel control, and in this case, it is a sign of worsening seizures for Dean. If this makes you uncomfortable and you don't want to read it, let me know in the comments and I can tell you what happened in the chapter so you can continue OR publish an alternate chapter without any mentions of it :)

Honestly, Aidan wasn’t a nervous person. He got a bit scared about a few things, yeah, but he tended to be a happy guy without too many worries. At the moment, though, that carefree nature was not visible in any way, shape, or form.

“For God’s sake, Aid, it’s fine,” Dean said, glancing at his boyfriend from the passenger’s seat. “They’ll love you. I don’t know why you’re getting all panicked over this. My parents are excited to meet you, and they’re nice people. They’re not going to interrogate you or point out all your flaws or whatever.”

“I’m going to fuck this up,” Aidan protested, unable to sit still as they continued to get closer and closer to the O’Gorman home and what the Irishman was sure would be his doom. “I’m going to say something stupid or break a bunch of things or, I don’t know, accidentally get drunk and grope you.”

Dean laughed a little at the last one. “I’ll make sure that last one doesn’t happen,” he promised. “Anyway, their house isn’t really full of fancy things to be broken, and I can’t imagine you saying anything too awful. They know we live together, they know we love each other. You don’t have to worry about keeping secrets. Don’t say anything about all the sex we have or hit on my mum and you’ll be fine,” he explained soothingly.

“I would never hit on your mum!”

“See? We’re fine,” Dean said firmly. “Now, we’ll be staying in their guest room, which is pretty comfortable. My parents get up super early, but told me that you and I should sleep late since they know this movie is making us sleep deprived. My brother will come for dinner one night, and at least once we’ll be convinced to go out with the guys from _Johnsons_ , but other than that we can do whatever we want.” He looked out the window and said, “Take the next right.”

Aidan did as instructed, trying not to get worried as he realized they were now on the street where Dean’s parents lived and there was no chance of turning back now. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet his boyfriend’s parents, but he was terrified they wouldn’t like him.

“It’s the blue house on the left.”

While they were getting their suitcases from the car, the door opened and a smiling woman walked out. “Dean!” she yelled happily, rushing forward to embrace her son. “You look so good, sweetie,” she said when she stepped back and looked over him with a critical eye. “I was so worried filming this would be too much.” She smiled, and then turned to her right. “And you must be Aidan!”

Aidan nodded shyly, putting his suitcase on the ground so he could shake her hand. “Hi,” he said quietly, his usual exuberance dampened by nerves. “Thank you for inviting me to stay,” he added.

“Well, of course,” Mrs. O’Gorman replied. “We’ve all wanted to meet you, since you and Dean have been dating for so long. You must be special, because most of his boyfriends only last a month or two.”

“Mum!” Dean protested, blushing. “Let’s get things inside, okay? Is Dad home?” he asked, steering the conversations away from his previous relationships. Admittedly, they hadn’t gone so well, but he was a New Zealander, and tended not to be so great at the whole “commitment” thing. Now that he was in his thirties, he was better at it, and, anyway, Aidan made him want to be good at it.

“No, he’s still at work. It’s only three o’clock, Dean,” his mother pointed out, leading the way to the door as the two men followed behind lugging their suitcases. “Sweetie, show Aidan to the guest room, okay? I’m going to make up a snack for you two. Aidan, do you prefer coffee or tea?”

“Tea,” Aidan answered, smiling. “You don’t need to make me anything, though, Mrs. O’Gorman. I’m all right.”

She shook her head. “You should call me Christine, dear. And I’m happy to make something. Get settled in and then come down and I’ll feed you something nice.”

“Um, thank you,” Aidan replied, watching as she left for the kitchen before following Dean up the stairs. “She’s really nice,” he commented, once they were in the guest room and unpacking a little.

“See? I told you,” Dean said triumphantly. “You’ll eat so much while you’re here. My mum thinks any problem can be solved by food, and she thinks we’re over-worked and sleep-deprived.” He looked over at Aidan as he put some shirts into the empty drawers in the dresser. “Are you tired after that drive? You can take a nap if you need to, babe. You don’t need to make yourself be social.”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. I’ll just sleep well tonight. I don’t want to sleep through my first day with your family.” He grinned and kissed Dean on the nose. “I’m happy to be here, babe. I don’t want to waste it just… sleeping.”

“We have two weeks, here, you’re allowed to sleep,” Dean pointed out, but he wrapped his arms around Aidan and leaned on his chest anyway. “Also, now that you’re here and can’t run away, I’m going to admit I sort of lied about the no interrogation thing. They’ll be a lot of question when we go back down and at dinner. Sorry.”

Though he didn’t like the idea of a million questions about himself and his relationship with Dean, Aidan couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. His parents would be the same way--quite probably worse, since they didn’t really get the whole ‘Aidan’s dating a man thing’ yet--and he would resign himself to answering. “It’s okay, I sort of knew you were lying,” he said, kissing his boyfriend’s forehead. “Let’s go back down to your mum, yeah?”

When they got to the kitchen, the little table had not only tea and coffee on it, but also various sweets and snacks, including Dean’s favorite biscuits, bread and cheese, sandwich meats, and various fruits. “Mum, there’s only two of us, and dinner is in a few hours,” Dean said, looking at the full table.

“I just wanted you to have options! You never told me what Aidan likes, so I had to improvise.” Christine turned to her son’s boyfriend. “If you don’t see anything you like, I can find you something in the kitchen. Do you eat meat?”

Aidan nodded. “Yeah, I eat meat, and don’t worry, this looks great,” he replied, smiling as he took some bread and cheese and an apple and put them on a plate. “Have you had a good week?” he asked politely.

Christine smiled and nodded. “Yes, we’ve been all excited about you two visiting. Now, Aidan, dear, what sort of things do you like to do in your free time? I’ve heard about the things you do with Dean, like little road trips and hiking, but I don’t really know much else.”

“Well, I like to read,” Aidan said awkwardly, not really sure how to answer. Also, when he thought about it, his life sounded boring in description. Dean had cool hobbies, like photography, but he was a little more of a homebody. “I’m not very good at household-y stuff, like cooking or anything. I like to watch movies and go out with friends, and, um, I’ve been spending most of my time lately just working and sleeping. I like some comic books, but I don’t collect or anything. I trained in dancing, but Dean doesn’t exactly do that.”

“I tried to get him to learn, but most dancing involved girls, and he was never that excited about it,” Christine said with a sigh. “You should teach him, I think he could be very good.”

“Mum, it wasn’t just because of the girls. I’m gay, not a misogynist or terrified of women. I’m just pretty shit at dancing,” Dean interrupted. “Anyway, he was trained in ballroom dance or whatever. I dance with him when we go out to clubs.”

His mother raised an eyebrow. “I have seen on telly the sort of thing people in clubs think is dancing, and I don’t think that counts, and I really don’t think that’s the sort of thing you should be doing in public.” She turned to Aidan. “No judgment on you, dear. You’re younger and I’m sure adjusting to clubs. Dean should really know better by now.”

Aidan kept silent about how he was experienced with clubs. He wasn’t going to give Dean’s mother a reason to disapprove of him, so he would let her imagine that Ireland was a club-less nation. “We don’t really go out to clubs much,” he offered up instead, feeling a need to defend his boyfriend’s honor. “Sometimes the cast drags us out, but we tend to stay at home more.”

“That sounds like a more mature relationship,” Christine commented favorably. “I’m sure you know how most men in New Zealand take a long time to come around to real relationships, so I’m happy Dean’s starting to settle down a bit.”

“Mum--“

“Let me finish,” his mother interrupted amiably before turning back to Aidan. “I think you sound like a very good influence on Dean.”

“Aidan…” Dean mumbled, reaching over towards his boyfriend’s shoulder.

It took Aidan a split second too long to figure out why Dean was trying to get their attention, and that second was all it took for the older man’s muscles to spasm and for his chair to tip backwards. Aidan made a grab for it and ended up pulled to the floor by the strength of Dean’s convulsions, but he was pretty sure he slowed his boyfriend’s fall. “Hey, babe,” he whispered, pulling Dean away from the overturned chair to a place he could seize without hitting anything. “Sorry I didn’t listen soon enough.”

Christine also felt a little guilty for cutting Dean off when he was clearly (in hindsight) trying to warn them of the impending seizure, but she was happy to see how Aidan took it in stride and protected her son’s head efficiently. “Did he take his medicine this morning?” she asked Aidan after a couple minutes, standing up to get some water and ibuprofen for when Dean was conscious again. This seizure was worse than most she had seen in his adult life, and she hoped it was due to a medication mix-up rather than general worsening.

“Yeah,” Aidan said, looking up from the older man for a moment. “He’s been doing pretty well, but he’s had a couple seizures during the day in the past month, but before they were only right before bed or early in the morning.”

On the ground, Dean’s body relaxed, the seizure finished. He remained unconscious, though, and Aidan simply pulled him up to basically sit in his lap so the younger man could rub his back gently.

“I’ll try calling his neurologist. Maybe he can see her before you two head to Ireland, so she can make sure he doesn’t need a change in medication,” Christine said, putting the water and painkillers next to Aidan before going to the phone and dialing the number for Dr. Phillips.

While Dean’s mother moved to a different room to speak with the doctor’s office, Aidan waited patiently for his boyfriend to wake up. “Let’s take a nap after this, okay?” he suggested softly, hugging Dean into him as he spoke. “I can bring you dinner if you don’t want to come downstairs to eat, or if you feel sick you can wake me up at three a.m. to make me get you a snack,” he assured the older man, letting out an internal sigh of relief when he felt Dean’s chest move against him in a weak laugh.

“I might do that just for entertainment,” Dean mumbled, pressing himself closer to his boyfriend for warmth and comfort. “Where’s my mum?” he asked after a few moments.

Aidan kissed Dean’s ear and hugged him tightly. “She’s in the next room, calling your neurologist. I think she wants to see if you need different meds. Oh,” he added, remembering the pills beside them, “do you want to take some ibuprofen?”

Gratefully, Dean took the pills and washed them down with the water. “Was that a long one?” he asked, closing his eyes tiredly. “I feel even shittier than usual.”

Aidan nodded, burying his face in Dean’s neck for a moment before responding. “It was maybe three minutes,” he said quietly. Three minutes was awful; usually, the older man seized for about thirty seconds. “Do you want to shower or go right to bed?” he asked, thinking of the logistics of getting Dean up the stairs. He was bound to be weaker than usual after a seizure that awful, but Aidan was relatively sure he could carry Dean if he needed to.

“Fuck,” Dean breathed out, thunking his head against Aidan’s chest for good measure. “I don’t know. I want to be clean but I want to sleep.”

“Well, how about a really quick shower? I’ll help you up the stairs and get you some comfortable clothes for after,” Aidan suggested, moving around so that he could stand up while still supporting Dean’s back with one hand. “Can you stand up with some help?” he asked.

Dean nodded and grabbed onto his boyfriend’s hand and tugged himself up to standing, where he leaned heavily on the younger man. “This sucks,” he said succinctly, realizing, with ever-worsening embarrassment, that for the first time in probably five years, he had not only pissed himself while seizing, but also shit himself. Great. What a wonderful way to start this vacation, he thought angrily, tears stinging his eyes as he moved slowly toward the stairs.

“Deano?” Aidan said quietly, looking at his boyfriend worriedly. “Are you okay? We can stop and wait if you want. I didn’t mean you had to move right away, I just thought you wanted to go to bed as soon as possible.”

“M’fine,” Dean choked out, slowly going up the stairs, clutching Aidan tightly for support. “I just need a shower.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded on the edge of tears. It was times like this when he stopped feeling proud of how far he’d come and happy with his life, even with seizures, and started to hate everything and get so angry at his weird-ass, malfunctioning brain.

“Baby, you don’t sound fine,” Aidan said quietly as they got to the top of the stairs. “Can I do anything to make it better?”

“You can go the fuck away,” Dean hissed, wanting to be alone in his exhaustion and humiliation and, at that moment, willing to be an asshole to his boyfriend to get what he wanted. “I don’t need you to fucking babysit me right now.”

Aidan was taken aback, but once Dean was in the bathroom, he backed off. “Okay,” he said, trying not to feel hurt because he knew that in the time after a seizure his boyfriend could get pretty emotional and edgy. “Just yell if you need anything, babe. I’ll be in the guest room. I’ll bring you some clothes.”

“Leave them outside the door,” Dean growled, practically slamming the door in Aidan’s face. He managed to turn on the shower before starting to cry, glad that the rushing water drowned out the sound of his hiccupping sobs. He wanted to scream, as he had more than once as a teenager, that is wasn’t _fair_. He wanted to be like everyone else, to never have to deal will things like this, but his stupid fucking life was utterly awful. He peeled off his clothes, not looking at them so he wouldn’t have to remind himself of all of this, and crawled into the shower, curled up and still sobbing.

In the guest room, Aidan found a pair of sweatpants, a soft long-sleeve shirt, and a pair of boxer briefs for Dean. He felt awful that his boyfriend was so obviously upset--definitely more so than usual. He did a bit of hunting through his suitcase and backpack, both of which were filled to the brim as they planned to head from the O’Gorman residence straight to Ireland, and was happy when he found a fancy chocolate bar he had picked up for their journey. He had planned to save it for later, but he felt that his boyfriend could use it now. Aidan firmly believed that everything in life could be solved with fancy chocolates.

Outside the bathroom, he debated whether or not to go inside. Yes, Dean had told him to leave the clothes outside and demanded to be left alone, but he was pretty sure there was an exception in that sort of rule for chocolate. Anyway, a bit of a shower tended to be calming, so Aidan decided to chance it. What was the worst that could happen? “I’ve got your clothes and some chocolate, babe,” he called out softly as he opened the door to the bathroom and stepped in, closing the door behind him with a soft snap.

Dean froze in the shower when the door opened, and prayed he would disappear magically when he realized it was Aidan coming in. “I told you to go away!” he yelled whipping his head around, but it was too late. His boyfriend had clearly seen his clothes on the floor, and he wondered if dying of mortification was a thing that could actually happen.

“Babe,” Aidan said gently. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine!” Dean yelled, scooting around in the shower so that he was sitting facing the younger man. “I’m supposed to be some sort of adult with a goddamn real relationship and I just shit myself in my parents’ house!”

“One of my friends always says he doesn’t trust anyone who hasn’t shit themselves an adult,” Aidan said, kicking Dean’s dirty clothes aside and leaving the clean ones and the chocolate on the counter as he crouched next to the shower. “It was during a seizure, babe, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is!” Dean shot back, no longer yelling but about a second away from crying again. “I’m tired of being the guy in his mid-thirties who cleans piss out of the rug and drools all over himself. I hate feeling like some sort of over-grown fucking toddler all the time!”

Aidan sighed softly, not sure how to comfort Dean like this. “You aren’t a toddler,” he said firmly. “For one thing, I _definitely_ don’t have sex with toddlers. For another, you’re, like, fifty times smarter than toddlers. So you had one of the worst seizures I’ve seen you have and shit a bit. Whatever. That’s what laundry is for. Or, you know, throwing out some clothing.”

“Why are you being such a fucking saint about this?” Dean asked, lashing out all his anger and frustration at Aidan. “Every time some bullshit happens, you’re there being nice and everyone says ‘Oh Dean your boyfriend is so sweet’ and crap and everyone knows you’re perfect and then there’s Dean, the fuck-up!”

Aidan raised one eyebrow. “You’re being a right idiot,” he said simply. “Nobody on this planet thinks I’m perfect. The other day, Graham told me that I needed to grow up, that since I’m dating an actual adult I should be acting like one. I can’t cook, and the last time I went grocery shopping without any input from you I bought peanut butter and eggs even though the only thing we needed was chicken. When I’m tired, I get whiny. Seriously, babe, I am not perfect at all. I’m just not going to get mad at you for something that isn’t a big deal and isn’t your fault.” He reached into the spray, not caring about how wet his sleeve was getting and cupped Dean’s face. “Come on. Finish washing up, and we’ll take a nap. Do you want to wash your underwear and jeans, or chuck them?”

All the angry wind had been taken out of Dean’s sails, and now he was just exhausted. “Chuck the underwear, wash the jeans,” he said tiredly, soaping himself up and rinsing off before sleepily turning the water off and sitting on the tiled floor of the shower, watching as Aidan, in his no-nonsense manner rarely seen by anyone other than Dean, cleaned up the bathroom, throwing some clothes in a plastic bag to wash, and one article of clothing in a plastic bag to throw out, which was tied off efficiently.

“Right-o,” Aidan said cheerfully, handing Dean a towel. “Where should I throw things out?” he asked, helping his boyfriend up and kissing his nose as he sat him on the closed seat of the toilet so he could dry off easier.

“If it’s sealed up so it won’t smell, leave it in here and I’ll deal with it later,” Dean mumbled, toweling off his hair slowly. “My parents have their own bathroom, it won’t bother anyone.”

“I can do it,” Aidan protested.

“I don’t want you to,” Dean said bluntly. “Look, Aid, babe, it’s hard enough for me to think that you clean up my piss from the carpet sometimes, you know? This isn’t something I want to have you do, babe. Humor me?” he added hopefully, not wanting to get into an argument after yelling at Aidan a few minutes previously.

Aidan nodded, agreeing and not wanting to upset his boyfriend. “I love you, babe,” he said happily. “Come on, get dressed and eat some chocolate,” he said, handing Dean his clothes and putting the chocolate on the counter next to him. “You need some food and some rest, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, standing up slowly to get the lazy clothes Aidan had brought in onto his aching body. “C’mon,” he whispered, picking up the chocolate bar to bring with him into the bedroom.

In the guest room, Dean collapsed on the bed and opened his chocolate bar as Aidan snuggled up next to him. He took a bite and offered the rest to his boyfriend, putting it on the bedside table when the younger man refused it. He barely finished swallowing before he fell asleep.

* * *

It was dark when Aidan woke up to a knock on the door. He stood up and opened it. “Hi,” he whispered when he saw it was Dean’s mother. “Should we come down for dinner?”

Christine smiled, but looked past Aidan to see her son. “If he’s up for it,” she replied, going into the room and sitting on the bed. “Dean?” she said softly, shaking the blond man’s arm gently. “Do you feel good enough to eat dinner?”

Dean groaned as he opened his eyes. “I want to die in this bed,” he croaked, pulling his blankets up his chest.

“I guess not,” Christine said simply. “I’ll make sure to keep some leftovers in the fridge for you in case you get hungry in the night, okay?”

Aidan sat down on the edge of the bed next to Dean. “Babe?” he said softly, rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulder gently. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“Of course I do, I’m a selfish bastard,” Dean muttered, taking ahold of Aidan’s wrist to pull him a little closer. “I’m not going to make you, though. You need to eat, Aid. I’ll live.”

“No, Dean,” Aidan said, feeling a little awkward with Dean’s mother in the room, but that couldn’t be helped. “I can stay with you if you want. I’ll get some food later. I don’t want you to be miserable alone.”

Dean made a little grumbling noise. “Now I feel guilty that I’m making you stay,” he said, but he scooted over on the bed to pull Aidan close. “Tell Dad we’re sorry?” he added to his mother, who nodded and told him to feel better before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

“Baby,” Aidan whispered, pulling Dean’s head onto his chest and carding his fingers through the older man’s hair. “How bad do you feel? I think you should go to the doctor, that’s not something that should happen while you’re on your medication and there aren’t any major triggers. We can skip Ireland if you need to.”

“I don’t want to skip Ireland!” Dean protested, shaking his head against Aidan’s warm chest, one hand pulling the blankets up a little higher up on their bodies. “I’m really excited about meeting your family. I don’t want to miss out on meeting your family because of some medical bullshit.”

“They’d understand,” Aidan assured his boyfriend, kissing the New Zealander’s forehead. “Your health comes before any relationship milestones people think are so important. We can… Skype them or something!” he suggested cheerfully, wanting Dean to know it was okay to skip out on meeting his parents.

With a frustrated groan, Dean shook his head. “It’s not the same,” he said crossly. “Look, let me try to get in to see a doctor before we leave. It’ll be fine, okay?”


	11. With the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mention of homophobic slurs (f*g) and use of a less widespread one (f**ry). These are fully written out in the story, instead of censored as they are hear. Explanation of why this chapter has this stuff is explained in the end notes (it spoils the chapter, btw).

The following morning, Dean was feeling much better, and he woke up before Aidan without so much as a headache. Not wanting to risk the whininess of a sleep-deprived Aidan Turner, he simply got out of bed and dressed himself quickly and quietly and headed downstairs to get some food.

As it was a Saturday, his father was home and immediately got up from the table to pull him into a hug. “How are you doing?” he asked, pouring Dean a mug of coffee and handing it over as they both sat down.

“Fine,” the younger man answered with a yawn. “Sorry I wasn’t up for dinner last night. It was a pretty rough afternoon.”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Lance answered, handing his son a plate and pushing some breakfast options toward him, including granola, pastries, and fruit. “Is your boyfriend still asleep?”

Dean nodded as he picked out an apple and took a bite. “We had a long drive yesterday,” he explained after he swallowed. “I think he’s a bit burnt out. Filming has been hard lately, and I think he’s having trouble sleeping. He’s really nervous about seeing his parents after coming out,” he added.

Lance’s eyebrows shot up. “He just came out?” he asked incredulously. “It must have felt awful to keep that secret for so long. Well, I hope they took it well.”

“Yeah, they did, I think,” Dean said. “He hadn’t really dated guys before me, he just… knew he liked them. I don’t think he felt like he needed to come out if he was going to date girls for the rest of his life.” He shrugged. “Anyway, he’ll probably be up soon, since he didn’t have dinner last night.”

Nodding, Lance moved the conversation on to grilling his son for details on how shooting was going, and what sort of things he did for fun. It was only another ten minutes before a sleepy-looking brunet wearing jeans and a ratty t-shirt appeared in the dining room, hair bouncing every which way with each step. “Good morning!” Lance said cheerfully, standing up and shaking the young man’s hand. “I’m Lance. Please sit down and have some breakfast.”

Aidan woke up rather quickly when he realized he was meeting Dean’s father. “Hi, I’m Aidan,” he said, sitting down and accepting a cup of coffee from Lance with a mumbled thank you. “Dean, you feeling okay?” he asked quietly, looking across the circular table to see if his boyfriend looked more tired or pained than usual. “Sorry I didn’t wake up with you…”

“I’m feeling okay, Aid, don’t worry,” Dean assured the younger man. “Some sleep makes everything better, you know? Did you manage to fall asleep at a reasonable time, or were you doing that thing where you pretend you’re asleep but you’re actually freaking out?”

The younger man’s blush and shrug said it all. “I can’t help it,” he muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. He preferred tea, but right then he could admit that the extra caffeine from the coffee would probably help him get through the day.

“So, what are you two planning to do for the next couple weeks?” Lance asked genially as Dean passed the food options towards Aidan. “We’re having Brett over next Friday, so you need to avoid making plans for then.”

“Okay,” Dean said, filing away that information for when it came time to make plans with the _Johnsons_ cast. “I want to show Aidan around a bit, and mum is trying to get me in to see Dr. Phillips, so I’m keeping plans kind of open for now. We also need to do some laundry and packing for Ireland, to be honest.”

Lance laughed a little. “Did you really bring home dirty laundry? It’s like you’re in uni again, I swear.” He shook his head as he turned to Aidan. “He used to come home with big bags of laundry, which always smelled a bit like marijuana, and it took him ages to finally wash it, so his whole room stank of it.”

“Dad! Can we not?” Dean squawked, face reddening as Aidan laughed. “That was more than ten years ago, can’t we move past that?”

With a shrug, Lance just sipped at his coffee and kept his mouth shut.

“Yeah, Dean, I’m judging you so hard right now,” Aidan said sarcastically. “My boyfriend smoked weed in college, guess we’ll break up now. I just can’t handle that fact. You never once mentioned that in the past ten months, and due to my high moral standards, I can no longer bear to look at you.”

“Shut up,” Dean muttered, poking Aidan in the side. “What are you doing today, Dad?”

“This and that,” Lance responded, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “I was thinking it would be nice to get to know Aidan, you know. I’m sure you boys want your alone time for romancing now that you aren’t working, but we’d like to meet him properly, Dean.”

Dean nodded, not bothering to mention his plans of taking Aidan out a fair amount just yet. He’d put in the time for his family to get to know his boyfriend and for them all to spend time together, but he wanted to show the younger man his hometown and take him on dates and do silly, romantic things, and maybe check into a bed and breakfast outside of town the next weekend for a bit of alone time. “Well, we’re free all day, you know,” he said cheerfully. “So, yeah, this is Aidan, we’ve dated for about ten months, he’s Irish, and he’s nice.”

“I know all that already, smartass,” his father replied, rolling his eyes. “Now, Aidan, pardon me for forgetting, but who do you play in the film?”

“Fili.”

“You’re Kili,” Dean interrupted, rolling his eyes. “I’m Fili. Seriously, Aid.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m Kili, who is the younger brother,” Aidan said, looking proud that he remembered the latter fact. “It’s pretty good. I’ve had to train a lot, though, because this shoot is really physical. I don’t think I’ve exercised this much for so long in my entire life.”

“I’ve heard that sort of thing from Dean,” Lance said, nodding. “I can’t imagine how you do it. Even at your age I would have given up from sheer exhaustion. Are you liking New Zealand so far?”

Aidan’s face lit up as he grinned. “Yeah! The location shoots were gorgeous, even though we were in the middle of nowhere. We just walked around and looked at the stars for fun, which was great. Wellington has been nice, too, even if studio shooting isn’t as exciting. And, you know, the people are pretty great,” he added, winking at Dean exaggeratedly.

Smiling, Lance nodded. “Brett told me that he was talking to Dean and you two are living together now. Is that right?” He waited for confirming nods before continuing, “How are you liking that? I know Dean is a bit of a handful sometimes, since he hates doing laundry and all, but I assume the benefits outweigh the smelly clothing?”

“Oh my God, Dad, please stop harping on my clothes!” Dean groaned. “Seriously, I’m an adult, I do my washing! I cook, and last week I cleaned the bathroom!”

“That was two weeks ago, and that was me,” Aidan interrupted. “He is pretty great to live with. He can put a fitted sheet on a bed super fast, and I never really got good at that. I mean, whenever I get to the last corner, one of the others has slipped off, and I can’t figure out how to make it stop.”

Dean stared at Aidan for a moment. “Is that seriously your primary reason I’m good to live with?” he asked, laughing. “I’m good at other things, too.”

Blushing, Aidan gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I mean, that and I love you,” he mumbled. “Do I need more reasons?”

Despite his previous reservations about Dean’s boyfriend--a younger man, an on-set romance, all of those sorts of things--Lance found that he was happy with their relationship, because they both seemed to honestly be in love. “Well, I need to run some errands this morning. Dean, your mother is out with her friends to plan the church fundraiser and get some lunch, so she’ll be back in the late afternoon. I’ll be home in time for lunch, okay?” he said, standing up to leave. “It’s nice to meet you, Aidan,” he added before leaving the dining room to get his coat and head out the door. He figured it was best to make himself scarce for a bit so Dean could get some more much-needed sleep instead of feeling compelled to stay up and spend time with him.

Inside the house, Aidan and Dean had both finished up their breakfasts and were putting their dishes in the dishwasher and getting the leftovers into containers to keep for later. “Do you want to sleep again?” the younger of the two asked softly, standing behind his boyfriend and kissing the nape of his neck.

“I should probably at least lie down,” Dean replied with a nod, taking Aidan’s hand to drag him upstairs with him. “Wait, fuck, we need to deal with my clothes first, okay? Here, why don’t you get the laundry started with our dirty clothes from set--the washer’s down the hall, last room on the right--and I’ll take the, um, other stuff out to the bin for pick-up.” Once Aidan agreed to the plan, Dean took the somewhat smelly bag (luckily, most of the stench was contained by the tight knot Aidan had tied at the top of it) downstairs and out to their bin, which would be picked up by the truck the following morning. He felt a little better, having gotten rid of the reminder of his mortifying seizure effects from the previous day, and by the time he was back in the bedroom, Aidan was lounging happily and the older man could hear the washing machine running quietly.

“Can we talk for a sec, babe?” Aidan asked, looking over at his boyfriend as the New Zealander lay down on the bed and got himself comfortable.

Dean rolled onto his side to look at the younger man. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“Well, I was thinking you should meet some of my friends from home, yeah? But I was wondering if you could, um, act like we’re not, you know… gay?”

“What?” That was not something Dean really wanted to hear.

“I’m not out to them, and I don’t want to be, so, like, it would be nice if you could tell them about a girlfriend or something, just to throw them off the scent?”

Dean didn’t have to consider for a second. “No,” he said flatly. “If you don’t want to be out, that’s fine, but I’m not going to pretend I’m straight. I’m not like that, Aid. I’m not going to fake my sexuality to make other people more comfortable. It’s cool if you don’t want to tell them I’m your boyfriend, that’s your choice, but I’m gay and I’m not comfortable with faking it.”

“They might figure it out, though, if they know you’re gay!” Aidan argued, not getting why this was a big deal to his boyfriend. “It’ll just be for a few weeks. I told my parents, isn’t that enough for you?”

A muscle twitched in Dean’s cheek. “It’s not about what’s ‘enough for me’ right now. I’m just not going to pretend to be straight, okay? People aren’t going to suspect you of being queer just because you’re friends with a gay guy, all right? It’ll be fine,” he added soothingly, reminding himself that Aidan was insecure, not trying to be hurtful.

“Dean, please?” Aidan pleaded. “It’s not just about hiding our relationship, it’s just that I don’t want them to give me shit and laugh at me for ‘hanging out with a fag’ or whatever.”

Dean sat up, pushing himself against the headboard. This was not a conversation to lie down during, like he was comfortable. “Did you just call me a fag?” he asked quietly. “That’s not okay.”

“I’m not saying you’re a fag, I’m just saying that they’re going to say that, if they know you’re gay,” Aidan explained, shrugging. “Just tell them you’re dating a girl, and it won’t be a problem.”

“Why are we going to hang out with people who would call me a fag?” Dean asked, breathing deeply to try to stay calm about this. “This isn’t something I feel comfortable with.”

“I make sacrifices for you,” Aidan said defensively, glaring at his boyfriend. “So my friends don’t like gay guys, stop acting like it’s a big deal. You’re being such a drama queen, Dean. It’d just be for a few weeks.”

Dean sighed in frustration, working very hard not to get hurt by the bullshit his boyfriend was spouting. “It is a big deal,” he explained as patiently as he could. “It’s putting me in a group of people who vocally despise who I am. Why do you want to hang out with them, anyway? If they don’t like gay guys, they aren’t exactly going to be big fans of you dating a man.”

“They don’t ever need to know!”

“Is that where this relationship is going?” Dean asked quietly, now unable to stop the hurt. “I love you, and I thought this was something bigger. It’s seemed like something bigger for a while, Aid.”

“No, I love you too, I’m not saying we’re going to break up and stuff, but I don’t want them to know I’m into guys. Whatever, it’s not important. You don’t even have to say you have a girlfriend unless they ask.”

This conversation was getting more and more painful. “Aidan, babe, it’s important to _me_. That’s not how I live my life, and I’m not comfortable lying about my sexuality. If they call me a fag, we’ll leave. Maybe they’ll be more accepting than you think. People can surprise you.”

“Look, Dean, I have done enough for you in the past seven months that maybe you could do this _little_ thing for me,” Aidan said, voice rising in anger. “If I can clean piss out of a carpet, you could act like less of a fairy for just a few fucking weeks.”

“You need to stop,” Dean said firmly, standing up to leave the room. “I’m not going to get called a fairy by my own boyfriend, and if you can’t bear the thought of people ever finding out you’re queer, you need to rearrange your priorities. Also, in case you forgot, trying to make me feel guilty about my seizures is a pretty low blow. Just… I’m going to go downstairs and find something to do, and you need to think long and hard about what the fuck you just said to me.” He wasn’t going to stick around to listen to any more hurtful crap from his boyfriend.

He had been downstairs for ten minutes, hand-washing dishes just to distract himself, when a warm body pressed against him from behind, and arms wrapped around his waist.

“So, I’m a douchebag,” Aidan said, his tone a combination of awkward and conversational. “Wanting you to act straight is making you deny a part of your identity, which is something you chose not to do when you came out. I shouldn’t ask you to do that, and trying to use guilt is a complete dick move. If I don’t want to come out to my friends, I won’t, but I shouldn’t ask you to lie to them about yourself. And yeah,” he added, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t stick around if they don’t like gay people. I mean, I’m half gay.”

Dean sighed, turning around in Aidan’s arms to face him. “It’s more than that,” he said softly. “You called me a fairy, Aid. That’s not… you can’t say that. You’re not really out, so you’ve never been called that, but I have. I’ve been called some awful shit, and for you to think it’s okay for your friends to call me that, or for you to describe me that way, it’s completely disrespectful. Telling me I need to do this because of my epilepsy? It’s bullshit. Do you not get how much guilt I feel about that? I have agonized about how you deal with that for our entire relationship, wondering if I’m a burden. It makes me feel like a piece of shit sometimes. You can’t just say a quick sorry for telling me that my epilepsy makes your life worse. Little secret, Aidan: it makes _my_ life way worse. If you think it’s so hard to clean up my piss, leave it, and I’ll do it later. Don’t think I owe you shit because I have seizures. If you don’t want to deal with it, you don’t have to date me.”

“I don’t think you owe me--” Aidan began, but Dean cut him off.

“Yeah, you do. You said it yourself. I’m not…” Dean trailed off, banging his head gently into Aidan’s chest in frustration. “I’m tired, okay? My life had been going great and now my medication isn’t doing enough and you called me a fairy and acted like I’m some huge burden and I can’t take that.” His voice began to tremble as he felt long-buried emotions rising to the surface. “Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve been called names and told I made people’s lives harder. Do you know how that feels? Everyone in my life told me how much of a burden I was on my family, and until I went to uni, every kid at my school called me a fairy and a fag and every other stupid fucking name there is. When’s the last time someone said that sort of shit to you? Just because you want something doesn’t mean you can hit me where it hurts the most. I can’t take this shit, Aidan.”

Aidan ran a shaky hand down the older man’s back, realizing what a complete and utter jerk he had just been. It wasn’t just that he had told Dean to act straight and tried to guilt him; he had reinforced every awful thing people had said to the New Zealander for years. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t think. I just want to win some stupid argument that I was wrong in anyway, and I acted like a combination of every horrible person you’ve dealt with. You’re not a burden, babe. Yeah, okay, cleaning up piss isn’t fun, but every relationship has shit people do. I clean some stuff up, and you cook and stuff pretty much every night. I… you’re right. I have never been called any of those slurs, and I don’t know how it feels. I could probably take it now, but I didn’t have to go through years of hearing it. You’re not a fairy or a fag or any of that bullshit, you’re just gay.” He smiled weakly. “I’m really, really happy you’re gay. If you weren’t, we wouldn’t be together, and this relationship is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Dean sighed. “That’s sweet, and I love you, but I’m still upset,” he said calmly. “It’s not something I can brush off and feel like everything is perfect again. I don’t hate you or anything, I’m just not really happy with you at the moment, okay?”

Aidan nodded. In the ten minutes before he had joined Dean downstairs, he had done a bit of texting with Luke and figured out just how shitty he’d been. He knew it would take some groveling to make up for this. “I understand. I’m not really thrilled with myself either. Want to just watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” Dean responded, leading Aidan into the family room and heading for his parents’ movie collection. In Dean’s opinion, the collection left something to be desired; his parents resisted the change in movies since their childhood era, so there was very little in terms of modern cinema. He was content, though, to pick out one of the older _James Bond_ films and pop it in the player before sitting on the couch next to Aidan. Though he was still frustrated with the younger man, it was practically instinct to curl into his side as the movie started on the television.

Aidan was glad that his boyfriend wasn’t too angry to snuggle him, as that would have meant things were even worse than he suspected. As it was, he simply wrapped an arm around the older man and held him close as he half-watched the movie and rested a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that in ten chapter, every argument they've had tended to be Dean getting upset and when Aidan got mad too, usually Dean had pushed him (like in the small fight after their dinner party). While I have definitely experience heightened emotions and frustration after seizures, this doesn't define Dean or their relationship. This fight was showing two things: one, Aidan is not the perfect man who is totally rational and never says anything bad, and two, Aidan has a fair amount of internalized homophobia, leading him to want to hide his queerness from his friends and not to see a problem with them using homophobic slurs. Plot will pick up next chapter, with less fighting and more loving.


	12. Doctor's Appointment and Shopping

On Monday at 11:06 in the morning, Aidan and Dean found themselves in the waiting room at the office of Dr. Anna Phillips. Dean’s appointment was supposed to have started six minutes earlier, but neither of them exactly expected punctuality from doctors. In fact, they were pleasantly surprised when they were called back three minutes later.

“Hi, Dean,” Dr. Phillips said cheerfully as she entered the exam room a few minutes later. “Ooh, who is this?” she asked, smiling over at Aidan. “He looks nice.”

“This is Aidan,” Dean replied, blushing. “He’s my, uh, boyfriend.”

Dr. Phillips gave a polite nod to Aidan before turning back to Dean. “Your mother mentioned your seizures aren’t being controlled well by your medication at this point? How many are you having a week? Are you still on the same dosage of medication?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t changed anything since I last saw you. I’ve been having a couple seizures a week, but only in the evening or the morning when my medicine wears off. Friday I had a really bad one during the day, though,” he admitted, shrugging. “It was three minutes, loss of both bladder and bowel control, no trigger, and I had to sleep for basically sixteen hours afterwards,” he added, knowing the questions that were coming.

With a nod, Dr. Phillips scribbled down a few notes on the chart in her hands. “Okay. It sounds like we need to try a change in your medications, and I’m going to prescribe an emergency medication to use if you have such a severe seizure again. I’m going to add Lamictal to your medications, and your emergency will be DiaStat. Aidan, will you be with Dean in the next few weeks so you can administer the DiaStat if the medication change doesn’t work, or at least doesn’t work right away?” she asked, turning towards the younger man.

Aidan nodded. “Yeah. We’re going to Ireland in a week and a half, though. Is that trip still okay?”

“Please?” Dean added, looking hopefully at his neurologist. “I really want to go. It’s a really important trip for me, and I don’t want to miss it because of all of this.”

Dr. Phillips took a moment to answer, seeming to weigh the question in her mind. “You may go, but you need to keep a record of your seizures--a good one, Dean, not the ‘I think I had one like three days ago’ type you usually keep--and I want you to promise to actually use the DiaStat if you have a bad seizure. I know you told your family not to use it last time, that you would tough it out, but this is not an option. Understand?”

Dean nodded meekly. “Aid, I hate to put this on you, but if I have a bad seizure, you’re up.”

Dr. Phillips nodded approvingly. “Good. Now, let me write you a prescription for all of this and explain about how to administer the emergency medication.”

* * *

 

After the appointment, Dean convinced Aidan that going into the city for lunch would be a good idea. To be fair, it hadn’t really taken that much convincing; the younger man was eager to explore and going out to lunch was a novelty after so long on set. They found a little Japanese restaurant and ordered some sushi before settling back in their seats lazily. “I’m glad we can still go to Ireland,” Dean said quietly. “I know you think it’s a bad idea, but it’s a big thing to me, meeting your parents.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Aidan explained, sipping on his jasmine tea. “I just think that we should be cautious. Your seizures getting worse isn’t something we can just ignore, Deano. It’s worrisome. How long have they been the same for? Like how long has this dosage of medication been keeping them in check?”

Dean shrugged uncomfortably, not wanting to tell the truth. He knew it would worry Aidan even more, and if was honest with himself, it worried him too. “Six years,” he mumbled, staring down into his cup of tea. “I don’t really want to talk about this now,” he added, glancing up and seeing Aidan about to reply. “No, I mean, we can talk about it later,” he said quickly, cutting the younger man off before he could speak. “It’s just… not here. This is something private and something really stressful for me.”

“Okay,” Aidan said simply, knowing not to push. If it was something Dean would admit to being stressful, it had to be a big weight on the New Zealander’s mind. “What sort of stuff do you want to do in Ireland? We’ll be there for three weeks, and I can’t really deal with my parents for that long. We could do a weekend in Dublin, or maybe do a little road trip and some camping.”

Dean grinned, liking the sound of wandering Ireland with his boyfriend. “Those both sound great,” he said cheerfully. “How do you feel about maybe going to a bed and breakfast this weekend?” he added, remembering his plans. “Just for a night or two,” he explained. “I was thinking it would be good to have a little bit of a good time on our own before we head off.”

Aidan blushed. “Are you saying we should go… you know, do something, before we go stay with my parents?” he asked quietly, blush deepening when Dean nodded happily. “I mean, what if the place has a bunch of rooms near each other? That’s, um, not really…”

Rolling his eyes mentally, Dean patted Aidan’s hand in comfort. “Everyone does that in bed and breakfasts,” he replied calmly. “It’s fine. I’m just thinking if I can’t even sleep in the same bed as you for three weeks, we should go out with a bang.” His lips twitched into a little smile. “So to speak.” He liked the idea of a romantic and, yeah, sexy weekend away with Aidan. They hadn’t stayed in a hotel together or anything since beginning to date, and that was a travesty in Dean’s mind. In his opinion, there was something fun about having sex in a bed that wasn’t their own, in a place where other people were. “Come on,” he wheedled, pulling out the big guns to convince his boyfriend this was a good idea. “I’ll do a bit of shopping before we go so it’s worth your while.”

There wasn’t even a word to describe how red Aidan’s face was by that point. He knew exactly what Dean was implying, and though it sounded wonderful, he couldn’t believe the older man had said it in a restaurant, just meters away from other people. “Okay, fine,” he whispered, desperate to end this conversation, and honestly excited at the thought of a weekend at a bed and breakfast with Dean. “What do we say to your parents, though? They’ll know!”

“Aid, baby, I’m over thirty years old,” Dean pointed out patiently. “I think it’s safe to say they know we’re fucking. We’re adults, we’ve been dating for months; it’s totally fine and healthy and whatever that we have a weekend alone.” He smiled, trying to get the younger man back at ease. “It’s something I want to do with you, okay? A weekend that’s just the two of us, no friends dragging us out or nosy parents asking us a million questions. We haven’t had a chance for that, yet, you know? It’s a big thing in a relationship, at least to me,” he added honestly. “We live together, and I want to take a vacation together, that isn’t about visiting people, just about being together because we like it.”

This wasn’t the time to feel embarrassed, Aidan decided. It had only been a few days since Dean had talked about feeling like everything was out of control in his life, and he knew that organizing and going through with this trip would help the older man feel like something had gone the way he wanted it to. Plus, he really liked the idea of it. “It sounds great,” he said simply. “I can take you, uh, shopping like you suggested after lunch, if you want.”

Dean grinned and shook his head. “No way. You can take me to the mall, but you’re going to find some other store to hang out in. I’m going to buy a surprise.”

“Okay,” Aidan said, trusting Dean to not buy anything too… out there. Yeah, he wanted to see his boyfriend in lingerie, but he kept it to just the underwear. “Do I need to give you guidelines?” he asked, suddenly irrationally worried that the older man would buy a bra or something, which was not really his thing (well, not on men, at least).

With a bit of a laugh, Dean replied, “Aidan, I got a glimpse of what you like from what you bought. I’ll just go off that. It’ll be fine, babe, I promise.” He looked up as a waiter came by their table and deposited plates in front of them. “Thanks!” he said cheerfully, picking up his chopsticks and digging in right away. It might not have been the most polite thing to do, but he was hungry, and he knew Aidan didn’t give a shit.

Likewise, Aidan started eating quickly too; their breakfast in the morning had simply been a mug of tea for the younger man and a mug of coffee for the older. They had slept in by accident, and had to rush to get ready for the doctor’s office, since it was a forty-minute drive from the O’Gorman house. Now that the appointment was over with, they could eat and then relax around Auckland for the day.

They made simply small talk as they ate, not really having a deep discussion between bites, and instead just talking about what their various friends from the cast were doing over the break, and which night they were going to meet up with Dean’s friends from the _Almighty Johnsons_ cast. Aidan was both nervous and excited to meet this cast, because he worried they would hate him, but he also was happy to meet his boyfriend’s other friends, because that seemed to be a good step in commitment. They decided on Wednesday night with Jared, Tim, Ben, and Emmett, and Dean sent out a text informing his friends of this decision.

After half an hour, they paid their bill and headed back to the car. Once they had gotten in and settled in their seats, Aidan turned to Dean. “Which way to I drive to get to the mall?” he asked, turning on the car as he spoke and carefully maneuvering out of his parking spot. They were on a one-way street, so he didn’t have to actually know any directions until the hit the next intersection.

“Take a left here,” Dean prompted as the younger man pulled to a stop. He kept narrating directions, and they got to the mall within ten minutes. “See? Not a bad trip. I’m going to go into some sort of sexy store thing, and you are on your own. I’ll text you when I’m ready so we can find each other. Sound good?” Dean asked cheerfully, getting out of the car and stretching briefly before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. It was getting toward winter, and definitely chilly. He was excited for the summer in Ireland in a couple weeks.

Aidan blushed, but nodded. “Yeah, I’ll probably look at… I don’t know, clothes or some shit. Anything I should pick up?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, we don’t need any extra headphones or shit for our trip.”

“That’s not even close to what I meant,” Aidan muttered as they started walking across the parking lot. “You’re pretty thick, babe.”

“Oh!” Dean felt a little ridiculous for taking that long to figure it out, but in his defense, this was not something Aidan tended to bring up in a public place. “I mean, I like you in skinny pants?” he said, clearly unsure of what sort of answer he was expected to provide. “I’m not really a fetish guy, Aid. I’m simple, and like whatever.”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe this laid-back New Zealander shit applies in the bedroom too,” he huffed, but he grinned at Dean. “I’ll just mess around in some shops, then. When we meet up, you should probably find me. I’m going to get seriously lost in this place.”

* * *

As a gay man, Dean hadn’t ever actually _been_ in a lingerie section. What he had told Aidan was true--he didn’t really have fetishes, and so he hadn’t exactly wandered around in the ladies’ clothing section. To put it simply, he was beyond confused. There were all these… options. He wasn’t completely uninformed, he had just never had a reason to look into women’s underthings, and it turned out that “normal” and “thong” were not the only kinds of underwear. He had no idea where to start, and it must have been obvious, because a saleswoman came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked pleasantly.

Oh, God. This was not really a time for honesty. Dean made himself smile in a relaxed sort of way--his acting skills were coming in handy--and said, “I want to pick out something for my girlfriend, but I don’t really know where to start. She likes lace, but I don’t know where to go from there.” He was very proud of himself for not blushing during this whole ordeal.

“Well, we have many different options,” the woman said cheerfully, clearly used to seeing men uncomfortable with selecting various kinds of lingerie. “If you come over here,” she explained, practically dragging Dean over to a table with neatly arranged lace underwear in every color of the rainbow, “we have a wide selection of lace panties, with all sorts of styles. If you want patterned, they would be over there,” she added, pointing to a table to the left. “Are you thinking of purchasing a bra, as well?”

“No!” Dean said, and then winced internally as he realized how terrified he had sounded. “No, uh, she told me it’s hard to find one that fits right,” he said, trying to cover up his awkwardness. “Thanks for the help.” Luckily, the woman took the hint and drifted away to help someone else. Steeling himself, Dean began to look through the underwear.

Okay, options. He could do options. Thongs were out of the question, because he didn’t want to floss his ass like he did his teeth, thank you very much. Everything else looked pretty simple and doable, so he started looking at color options, rather than style. There were some nice purples, and a green that he thought Aidan might like, but he decided to check out the patterned ones too before making a decision. If he was putting himself through this embarrassment, he was going to get something really fucking nice.

The patterns were kind of fun, and he liked that some of those were more lace-edged. The material of the actual underwear looked pretty stretchy, which was a plus; the pure lace ones Aidan had bought left very little room for his dick, especially once he started getting hard. Dean was a bright and cheerful person, so he could see himself wearing the striped patterns (you know, for Aidan’s benefit). He selected two pairs, both with lace edging: a basic white pair with black lace, and a pair with zigzag stripes in rainbow colors across it (he staunchly refused to let himself think about how he just _might_ have bought it to make his junk look bigger--stripes did that, he was pretty sure). He managed not to die of mortification when he bought them, and was soon out of the store and feeling much less stressed about the whole thing.

He sent Aidan a quick text to find out where the younger man was, and within a minute got back an answer and set off to find him. He was in a shop that was for young people and--Dean immediately backed up from that thought, because it made him feel old as fuck. Did he really disapprove of “young people shops” now? Christ, soon he would be angry about loud music if he didn’t be careful. Luckily, he found the shop within ten minutes, and Aidan was just paying and cheerfully found him outside.

“Did you have fun?” the Irishman asked cheekily, laughing a little when Dean’s face turned red. “Come on, it can’t have been that bad,” he said, bumping his shoulder against his boyfriend’s as they walked toward the mall’s exit. “I bought skinny pants for you,” he added happily, opening the bag to reveal folded black trousers. “Not like the scary tight ones for girls or anything, but, you know, man skinny pants,” he explained.

Dean grinned, feeling a little more relaxed now that the focus was turned away from his shopping trip. “You should definitely wear those when we go out with the _Johnsons_ guys,” he informed his boyfriend.

“Yeah, nothing more fun than getting you horny and going back to your parents’ house to not have sex,” Aidan muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes and making Dean laugh. “I’ll do it, but only because you’re so cute,” he added as they left the building and headed for their car.

Inside the car, Dean leaned over and kissed Aidan’s cheek. “I love you,” he said simply, putting on his seatbelt and reaching over to put a hand on his boyfriend’s thigh. He wasn’t trying to start anything, he just… really loved Aidan and felt a need for basic contact. “Want to go back to my parents’ place and find somewhere to stay this weekend?”

“Yeah,” Aidan said, smiling softly as he started the car. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like lingerie shopping is super awkward for everyone. Especially with salespeople around... basically, I feel Dean's pain :)


	13. Ireland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. One of the (weird) symptoms of my health problems is apathy, so it can be hard to motivate myself to write. Also, I was just not feeling any inspiration with right where my story was, so I did a time-skip. I plan to write out more of them in Ireland than I did of them in New Zealand. So yeah. Enjoy :)

Flying was not really Dean’s favorite thing. Usually, it wasn’t that bad, but his hands were sweating as he sat in a seat next to Aidan, glancing over the younger man to look out the window at the green hills below them.

“Will you calm down?” Aidan asked after his boyfriend had changed position in his seat about ten times in seven minutes. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll land in twenty minutes, my parents will pick us up, and you’ll realize there’s nothing to freak out about!”

“What if they hate me? What if something goes wrong?”

“Then it’s too late to worry anyway!” Aidan pointed out, rolling his eyes. “Dean, worrying won’t help anything. You’re going to meet them, there’s no backing out, and whatever happens will happen and it will all be okay.”

Dean was rather high strung by that point. Their last week in New Zealand hadn’t exactly been what he had envisioned. At Dr. Phillips’s advice, he had gone in for an EEG, his first in a few years, and then had been instructed to stay around and not do anything that could interfere while starting a new medicine in case he had a reaction. Instead of a crazy night out with his friends from the _Johnsons_ cast, they’d had a pleasant dinner at a restaurant; it had been fun, but not what Dean had been looking forward to. Instead of whisking Aidan off to a bed and breakfast for a romantic and sexy getaway like in movies, they had stayed at home and made dinner for his parents. While he had enjoyed himself, things hadn’t really been going his way, and he didn’t want this trend to continue as he met Aidan’s parents.

“What if it isn’t all okay? What if I set myself on fire and then burn down their home and get arrested?” Dean asked, glaring at his boyfriend.

Aidan resisted the urge to shake Dean by the shoulders to make him realize how ridiculous he was being. “Well, if that happens, they’ll probably be distracted by the house thing and won’t notice you got arrested,” he answered pragmatically. “Now, come on. Stop thinking of weird scenarios and relax. They’ll probably take some time to get used to you, since it’s the whole, you know, bisexual bombshell and all, but you’re nice and adorable. My parents will like you. My dad is very proud that he looked up information about homosexuality, so he’ll probably quiz you about that, but he’s not trying to be rude. He’s just really weird. My mom will try to make you eat twice the amount you usually do, but you should just insist you’re full. We’ll try to go out for lunch every day so you can claim you had a super big lunch.”

“Why are there so many weird tips about spending time with your parents?” Dean asked incredulously, momentarily distracted from his worry by what his boyfriend was saying. “Are they going to be mad if I mess up at any of this?”

“It’s fine, I’m just warning you. My parents are weird. All parents are weird, but it’s fine,” Aidan replied with a shrug. “You’re just so worried, I don’t want this shit to catch you off guard. If you want to get away at all over the next three weeks, just tell me. We deserve a real break, and, honestly, spending time with our parents for over a month isn’t one. We can try to get away for a weekend or a few days here and there, and we can always go out for a few hours if you feel smothered. You’re freaking out so much that I’m starting to worry you’re going to bolt once we get to the airport and get the first flight out of Dublin.”

Dean sighed and nudged Aidan’s foot with his own. “Yeah, I’m being a right idiot,” he mumbled. “It’s been a shit week and I want everything to go perfectly.” He grinned at the younger man and winked. “Can we make up for the lack of bed-and-breakfast back in New Zealand? I bet there are some nice, isolated ones on the coast or something,” he suggested, watching a bit of pink appear on Aidan’s cheeks. “Or maybe check into a hotel in downtown Dublin for a wild night out?”

Happy that Dean had gotten out of his worry-mode, Aidan nodded along with the older man’s suggestions. “We can do both of those,” he promised. “Weekends can be our time alone, and we’ll do the work week with my family. My da works from home, so we’ll be seeing him a lot more than my ma, but she’ll be home for dinner every night.”

“Great!” Dean said cheerfully, brightening up before realizing that the talk on the intercom that he was tuning out was actually the final announcements before landing. Oh, God, this was really happening. Within maybe half and hour, tops, he was going to be meeting Aidan’s parents. Aidan’s parents, who had learned a month ago that their son liked men. The people who had raised the man he loved and adored, and who could disapprove of him and hate him forever. Okay, no. He sat up a little straighter and told his mental voice to shut the fuck up. He was going to be charming, sweet, and utterly loveable to demonstrate to Aidan’s parents that despite not being a woman, he was a wonderful person for their son to date.

Aidan’s lips twitched towards a smile as he watched Dean stare forward with a determined expression. He knew that look; the Kiwi was clearly giving himself a mental pep talk. Leaving him to it, Aidan looked out the window as the plane fast approached the airport, the details of the surrounding area getting clearer and clearer as the jet descended. Soon, they were on the ground, and Dean was back to his worrying.

“Okay, are they meeting us by the baggage claim? I should stop off in the bathroom to wash my hands and make sure I look okay before we meet them,” Dean said, speaking a little faster than usual out of pure nervousness. The plane slowed down as it taxied toward a gate, and the New Zealander was pretty sure his heart was speeding up with every meter closer they got. “Do I smell okay?”

“Deano, deep breath,” Aidan instructed firmly, making sure his boyfriend complied before he began to speak again. “Yes, we’ll meet them at baggage claim. Yes, you smell fine. And we can stop in the bathroom because I have to piss pretty bad, but you look good and nobody expects you to smell and look absolutely perfect after a long-ass trip all the way from the other side of the world.” His voice was calm and steady, and he knew that was part of what made Dean stop twitching anxiously in his seat.

By the time they were able to actually get off the plane, they were both ready. Aidan was excited to be home, and seriously needed to pee because airplane bathrooms were awful and he was not a big fan of using them, and Dean was too sick of traveling and too tired from jet lag to spare any more energy on freaking out. His tiredness had definitely mellowed him out a little, and he followed Aidan around the airport, popping into a restroom to use it and wash his hands and face, and then meandering toward the baggage claim, looking around. He knew that this was, objectively, nothing new; airports were airports, and he had seen a lot of them. It felt new, though, because this was the airport that Aidan always flew out of, and it was in Ireland. He found himself reading headlines off of newspapers as he passed, even though they were all horribly boring.

“Wow, this is where you live,” he said softly as the approached the escalator they needed to take.

“Well, not the airport,” Aidan replied teasingly, but he grinned at Dean as he got on the escalator ahead of him. “Yeah, it’s nice to be back. You’ll love it. The countryside is gorgeous, and Dublin is really cool, and, you know, it’s where I grew up.” He shrugged. “I guess that’s not anything that special, but it’s still kind of cool, right?”

“Very cool,” Dean assured the younger man, poking him so that he turned around to get off the escalator at the bottom. “Okay, we’re baggage carousel number seven, and I think that’s over…”

He was interrupted by a woman barreling into Aidan at top speed, already talking to him loudly and happily. “Oh, sweetie, you look so good,” she said, pulling back from her hug to look him over. “You look like you finally put on some weight, and is that a new shirt? It looks lovely, dear.” Mrs. Turner was, of course, happy to see her son. She had sort of seen him; he had taught her how to use Skype before he’d left, but seeing him in person was so much different--and better--than seeing him on a little computer screen. She was still smiling at Aidan when she noticed the somewhat uncomfortable-looking, smaller man behind him. “Aidan, is this your little, um, man-friend?” she asked.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, mum, this is Dean,” Aidan said quickly, grabbing his boyfriend’s arm to shove him forward. He wasn’t really sure what he was apologizing for; if he’d been able to get a word in edgewise, he would have introduced Dean earlier. When his mother embraced the New Zealander, Aidan recognized an expression of panic. “Hey, mum, we’re pretty tired,” he intervened, gently touching his mother’s shoulder so she would release Dean. “Can we pick up our bags and head home so we can take a quick nap before dinner?”

“Oh, yes, of course, dear. I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how tired you two must be,” she said, leading them toward the baggage carousel. “Your father went over to Ron’s house, so he’ll be back for dinner. I’ll just start cooking while you two get some rest.” She stood back and let the boys go get their luggage. She was trying to be careful not to overwhelm Dean; Aidan had warned her about that over email. The blond seemed a little skittish and quiet, not at all the way Aidan had described him, so she was sure it was nerves. She would wait until they were in the car to strike up a conversation with him.

Aidan pulled Dean close to his side as they waited for their bags. “When we get back to my ma, please say at least one word to her,” he whispered. “I know this is scary, but you’re going to hurt her feelings. Just thank her for letting you come, or tell her you’re really excited to meet her. Really, anything would be better than this silent terror thing you’ve got going.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point!” Dean hissed back. “I’ll man up and talk to her, stop guilting me over it.”

With a smirk, Aidan replied, “Can’t help it. Guilt is a national pastime here. I learned how to guilt before I learned how to tie my own shoes.” Spotting his bag, he moved forward and pulled it from the carousel, barely getting it out away from the crowd before Dean appeared with his.

They went back to where Mrs. Turner was waiting, and, after a pointed look from his boyfriend, Dean smiled awkwardly and told her, “It’s nice to meet you, and thank you so much for letting me stay with you. I’m really excited to get to know you and to see where Aidan grew up.”

“We’re happy to have you!” she replied as they headed toward the car park. “We were a little surprised at the, um, man part of this whole thing, but you seem like a lovely young man.”

Dean nodded. “Well, your son is very, uh, nice and wonderful. You must be a brilliant mum.” Oh God, why did he open his mouth? He wished he could take back this clichéd dialogue and be a more interesting human, but somehow all of his usual self had disappeared. He supposed it was better to be bland than to be awful, but slightly interesting would have been even better. “Do you live near the airport?”

“Just an hour away.”

“An hour? Thank you for coming in to pick us up.”

“Of course I came to pick you up! I wasn’t going to make you two find a cab to take you all that way. Now, Aidan, dear, let’s get those suitcases in the boot, and we’ll be off, I know you want to get some rest. You look ready to nod off on your feet!”

* * *

Despite being tired, Dean couldn’t nap. He was in a small, cozy room, under a warm blanket, and he had been staring at the ceiling for thirty minutes. He still felt awkward. Aidan’s mother had been so sweet, keeping up the conversation in the car and acting as though she didn’t notice how uncomfortable Dean clearly was. There was still something a little jarring about being shown to the guest room, though, as Aidan went into his own room. He wasn’t co-dependent or anything, he was just used to sharing a bed with Aidan when they were in the same building. Anyway, being in different rooms just reminded Dean of how big of a deal this whole situation was for the entire Turner family. A month after coming out, Aidan was bringing his boyfriend into the house.

With a sigh, Dean rolled onto his side, curling up and tugging the blanket a little higher. He closed his eyes, but his mind was still racing. He knew that he needed to sleep; not getting enough could trigger seizures, and he really didn’t feel like having one at Aidan’s parents’ house, at least not on the first night. He took a deep breath and wondered if Aidan was awake too. Probably not; the younger man had far fewer reasons to be lying awake and freaking out. Was it worth it to just lie there? He could get up and see if Aidan’s mum wanted any help with fixing dinner, but that would mean spending more time alone with her despite not feeling comfortable yet. He was still shifting restlessly when he heard a knock, and the door to the guest room opened.

“Hey,” came a soft, familiar voice. “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

Aidan slipped into the room and closed the door behind himself silently. “I knew you were freaking out in here,” he whispered, a touch of amusement in his voice as he sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked his fingers gently through Dean’s hair. “Is there anything I can do to make you stop worrying?”

Dean pushed himself up into a seated position, back against the bed’s headboard, and scooted over to make room for his boyfriend next to him. “I don’t know. I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep, and now I’m worried that not sleeping will make me have some sort of awful seizure in front of your parents, and I just want to cuddle you until I fall asleep but I can’t.”

After moving to sit next to the older man and lacing their fingers together, Aidan said, “I know. I’m sorry it’s a little weird here, but it’s okay. And if you have a seizure in front of my parents, they will just worry and try to feed you more. Seizing in front of them isn’t going to make them hate you or anything, babe. Plus, maybe your new medication can prevent that. You need to relax, though. You’re never going to sleep if you keep freaking out.” He kissed Dean’s cheek softly. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll stay here for four days, and then go camping this weekend, or go downtown, or… whatever you want, just away from my parents for a bit.”

“Camping sounds nice,” Dean mumbled, leaning his head against Aidan’s shoulder. “Do we get to see the white cliffs of Dover or something?”

“Those are in England.”

Dean laughed. “Okay, not them. Uh… the… sheep?” He shrugged ruefully. “Sorry, I don’t think I know any famous Irish landmarks.”

With a smile, Aidan kissed Dean’s cheek again. “It’s fine. We can see sheep, if you want. They’re pretty much the same as the ones in New Zealand, though. It would probably be more fun to just wander around a bit. We can camp in Galway, if you want. It would just be a couple hours, but you could see the west coast. That could be fun, yeah?”

“Yeah. Are you good at the whole… camping thing? I’m not exactly experienced. One time I camped for a weekend at one of those sites that has the buildings with showers and stuff.”

“I’m experienced enough,” Aidan assured his boyfriend. “It’ll be so pretty. We’ll have different constellations than New Zealand right now, and if we pick the right spot we’ll be the only people for a few kilometers. It’s great, Dean. I’m so happy you’re here. New Zealand is great and all, but this is my home.”

That made Dean’s heart sink a little. Would that be a problem, after filming ended? He sometimes forgot that Aidan’s life was _here_. Ireland and New Zealand were literally half a world apart. He pushed the thoughts aside, and instead concentrated on camping. “Sounds perfect. Will we be doing that cooking on a fire thing? I hope you can do that, because the closest I’ve ever come is grilling.”

Aidan wiggled his hand in the air to indicate a bit of a “maybe” in his outdoor culinary skills. “My ma can help us provision so we don’t starve,” he promised. “Babe, if you aren’t going to sleep, do you want to go help my ma with the cooking? I know you’re fucking terrified, but the sooner you spend time with her, the sooner you’ll get comfortable being in the same room.”

Deep down, Dean knew that his boyfriend was right. “Okay, but you’re in charge of helping start a not weird conversation.”

“Deal!”

Downstairs, they found Mrs. Turner hard at work, chopping various vegetables. “You boys are supposed to be asleep!” she chastised gently. “You’ve both got bags under your eyes and look like you’re about to pass out.”

“We’re excited to be here, Ma,” Aidan pointed out, smiling widely. “We’ll sleep well tonight, I’m sure.”

“Would you like help with dinner?” Dean asked shyly. “I cook a lot, so I can chop or something.” He smiled when Aidan’s mum handing him a cutting board, a knife, and an onion.

“You know, I’m so happy Aidan has a… person who can cook,” Mrs. Turner commented. Though she was happy her son had found someone, she still struggled with the term boyfriend. She had only found out a few weeks ago, so she felt it was understandable. “He’s far too old to struggle with cooking, but I just haven’t been able to teach him.”

Now, this was a conversation Dean could handle. He teased Aidan about this sort of thing all the time. “I asked him to dice something once, and he didn’t even know what that meant. I have to cook every night because the only thing he has ever cooked is pasta.”

“Hey! One time I cooked chicken,” Aidan said in defense of his cooking abilities. “Yeah, it was the kind that comes from the freezer section at the store, but I cooked it!”

Smiling, Mrs. Turner shook his head. “Maybe you can teach him a little more, Dean,” she suggested. “Aidan, can you put on the kettle? Your da might want some tea when he comes home.”

Content in his relative lack of responsibilities, Aidan filled up the electric kettle and flicked it on. As the water slowly began to heat up, he leaned lazily against the counter. “Do you want to do anything special while we’re around, Ma? We’re going to go to camping this weekend and maybe do an overnight Dublin sometime after that, but we’re open to whatever else you want,” he explained.

“We’re planning to take it easy,” his mother replied cheerfully. “You da and I just want to get to know Dean and spend some time with you. We’ve missed you, sweetie.” She glanced over to see Aidan’s boyfriend finishing up cutting the onion she had handed him. “Wow, you are very good at this!” she gushed, taking the cutting board. “Could you chop this celery as well? I’m working on a stew and there are so many vegetables to put in.”

Dean smiled and accepted the few stalks of celery from Mrs. Turner before starting to slice them up. “Well, it looks like it will be great!” he said, smiling genuinely and without any hint of awkwardness as he began to feel comfortable. “I’ve never gotten the hang of stews. Maybe you could teach me?”

This, Aidan decided, was going very well. Dean had finally relaxed, and his mother seemed to be getting past her weirdness about their relationship.

“Aid,” Dean said, smile slipping. “I don’t feel so great.” This was not the time, but he could feel the nausea coming on and smell that god-awful smell.

“Dean?” Aidan said, taking a quick step over to his boyfriend. “Dean, we need to move back, okay?”

After that, Dean was pretty sure Aidan said more, but he was rapidly blacking out and his limbs were starting to shake.

* * *

A and E in Dublin was actually not that bad, Dean reflected. They had given him the nice pain meds, the ones that made him a little woozy but totally stopped his headache, and his arm was getting stitched up by a nurse who was very nice and kept trying to flirt with Aidan, who was a good boyfriend and just smiled politely. Yeah, Dean thought Dublin A and E was his new favorite A and E. “Do I have to stay a long time?” he asked, blinking slowly. These meds made blinking funny.

“Sorry,” the nurse said apologetically. “We’ve got to do a quick x-ray since you hit your head on the way down. It’ll be at least another hour.” She finished up the last stitch and smiled. “The orderlies will be around in a little bit to take you to radiology, but it might be a little while til the machine’s available. Press the button if you need anything.” She gave Aidan a charming smile and left the room, closing the curtain as she did so.

Dean blinked again, just to feel his weird eyelids sliding over his eyes. “I like blinking,” he announced to Aidan. “It’s fun. You should try it.”

“I’m blinking right now, babe,” Aidan responded. “You are really high from that Percocet, aren’t you?”

“No,” Dean lied. “I feel normal. _You’re_ high from Percocet.”

“I haven’t had any.”

“Liar.”

Aidan just rolled his eyes and scooted his chair close to the bed to hold Dean’s hand. “You scared the shit out of me today,” he whispered. “That happened so fast you couldn’t even drop the knife. What if you’d stabbed yourself instead of just a cut?”

“I didn’t!”

“But you could have, babe. You need to go back to your doctor once we leave Ireland, okay? I want you to be safe,” Aidan continued. “I love you and I need you to not get hurt. You hate doctors and everything, but you’ve got to do this. You can’t avoid this or something bad could happen.”

Dean nodded, not having as much fun with the medication as he had been having a minute earlier. “Okay,” he said simply. “Do you think your parents think I’m weird after that? I don’t want them to think I’m weird or gross. Do you think I ruined the stew?” he asked, suddenly looking very worried. “That’s going to be such a good stew and what if I bled on it?”

“I’m pretty sure there wasn’t any blood on any of the vegetables, and, even if there were, my mum would just cut some more. There will be stew when we get home, I promise,” Aidan assured his distressed boyfriend. “You can eat all the stew you want. Then you can sleep for at least twelve hours, and we’ll skip mass tomorrow because we are going to die of jet lag if we don’t, and also, mass is super long and boring.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Aidan. “You’re a bad Catholic,” he accused. “What if we get married, huh? Would that service be too long and boring? Maybe I won’t marry you, then. See, how do you like that? I just broke off our wedding!”

“We aren’t engaged.”

“That’s right, not anymore!”

Aidan almost felt bad for how much he was enjoying talking with Dean while the older man was off his gourd on narcotic painkillers. In a moment of clarity, he realized that his boyfriend was, at that moment, very likely to say whatever popped into his head when prompted. With a trace of guilt at taking advantage of the situation, Aidan asked, “If I promised not to get bored by the service, would you want to marry me?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I? You’re so nice and pretty and I love you. And that one fetish you have is only kind of weird. Ooh, can we have more fetish sex while we’re here? That would be fun!”

Blushing, Aidan grinned. “We can do whatever you want,” he whispered. “If you remember this when you sober up, I think you should know I’d marry you too. Not right now or anything, but, you know, in a year. I’d want to marry you in a year.”

Dean smiled lazily. “Okay. What’s today? April sixteenth? On April sixteenth next year, we’ll get married. I bet being married is fun. People always say it’s more boring and less sex-ful, but I bet we’d be super fun and still have tons of sex.”

“April sixteenth of next year it is, then,” Aidan replied, trying to remind himself that he couldn’t actually take this conversation seriously. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. This is fun. I want to go home, though. Your mum is making stew and I want some. I bet it’s great. Is Ireland famous for stew?”

“I think we’re only famous for potatoes and being super Catholic.”

“That’s okay. I like potatoes.”


	14. After A and E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo, new chapter! I'm going to write out more of their time in Ireland than I did in New Zealand, but it's still going to hop around. As a rule, it's harder to write about parents because I know zero about them, so it will mostly be their little side-trips to camp or to spend time in downtown Dublin. As always, let me know if there are any little things, plot-wise or porn-wise, that you want to see, and I'll work on throwing them in :)

By the time Dean and Aidan were back from A and E, Mr. and Mrs. Turner had finished their dinner, but they were still awake and patiently waiting for their son and his boyfriend. “How is he?” Aidan’s mother asked as soon as the two men came through the front door.

“M’great,” Dean announced. “I got stitches and x-rays and I am super great.”

“He also got Percocet, which helps with the greatness,” Aidan muttered, but he was smiling. He deposited Dean on the couch so he could hug his father. “Hey, Da. Sorry we were out when you got home. Well, this is Dean. He’s usually not so… high on painkillers.”

“Hi, Aidan’s dad!” Dean chirruped excitedly. “I’m dating your son! I love him a lot and stuff. Can I eat some stew?”

With a smile, Mrs. Turner bustled off to warm up two bowls of stew, rather excited that Dean had just loudly proclaimed his love for Aidan. It wasn’t that she thought Aidan should get married right away; it was just that he was nearly thirty and hadn’t really had serious relationships. She couldn’t help but worry. When she came back into the living room--usually, they would only eat at the table, but this was an extenuating circumstance--Aidan and his father were talking while Dean was lying down with his head in the younger man’s lap, looking up at Aidan’s scruffy chin and mumbling to himself.

“Deano, can you sit up for some food?” Aidan asked softly when he saw the bowls his mother had brought in with her. “It’s the stew you helped with,” he added when his boyfriend made no move to get up. “Come on, babe, you need to eat,” he cajoled, not sure what to do when the older man just smiled up at him. “Christ,” he muttered finally, bodily hauling Dean into a sitting position. “I’m jet-lagged, you’re jet-lagged, please just eat this so we can sleep.”

“Sleep would be nice,” Dean agreed. “Ooh, I need to tell your parents. While we were at the hospital, I decided that I’m going to marry Aidan in exactly one year. Mark your calendars. It might be in New Zealand, because I’m from New Zealand, and we met in New Zealand.” His eyes went wide as he thought of something. “I bet we could get married on the _Hobbit_ set, in Laketown or something. How cool would that be?” He smiled happily and began to eat, not noticing Aidan’s creeping blush and the stares of his parents.

“Well, wouldn’t that be nice?” Aidan’s mother asked cheerfully.

“Ma, don’t,” her son mumbled. “He’s on a lot of painkillers right now, and he probably isn’t really sure what he’s saying. Don’t make a big deal out of this, please. I know you want me to be married by yesterday, but don’t bring this up all the time, okay?” he asked tiredly.

She raised her eyebrows. “Is this because you _don’t_ want to get married to him or because you really, really do?” she asked. “It must be one of the two, or you wouldn’t care so much, and I think it looks like the latter…”

“Dear,” her husband interrupted. “Leave Aidan alone. If he wants to do a gay marriage, let him do it when he wants to. There’s no need to get him all scared about it now.”

“He does want to do a gay marriage!” Dean said loudly. “He said he wanted to gay marry me in a year. He told me in the hospital. That’s why we’re going to get married in a year.”

“Dean,” Aidan muttered tersely. “Not the time.”

“But you said it!”

“Can we talk about this later?”

Dean sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

By that point, even Aidan’s father couldn’t pretend he didn’t care. “Sounds like somebody made more than a few promises while in A and E,” he observed, barely suppressing a smile.

“Everyone needs to stop right now,” Aidan said crossly. “I’m going to eat my stew and go to bed and nobody is going to mention marriage again. No, not even you,” he added when he saw Dean open his mouth. “You’re going to eat your stew and go to bed too, because we’ve been up for at least twenty-four hours straight and you need to sleep and stop talking while on drugs.”

“Bossy,” Dean groused, but he finished his stew and leaned on Aidan. “Do I have to walk all the way up the stairs?”

“Yes.”

“Not cool. I have stitches. How am I supposed to walk with stitches?”

“They’re on your arm, Dean,” Aidan said, having clearly had enough of this shit. “You can walk. Let’s go. Up the stairs, to your room, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”

Dean giggled a little at that and, thankfully, stood up of his own accord and started to walk toward the stairs, calling out a “goodnight” to Aidan’s parents as the younger man did the same. “I love you,” he said in a mellow voice as his boyfriend prodded him up the stairs. “I need to start planning our wedding. I like weddings. Okay, not really, but I think I’d like _our_ wedding, since we’d be the ones getting married. New Zealand’s okay, right?”

Aidan sighed. “Dean, stop. You’re not going to plan a wedding while high. Just go to sleep, because weddings that were agreed upon while on drugs don’t happen.”

“You don’t want to marry me?” Dean asked in a small voice, stopping as he stood outside the guest room. “Oh. Okay.”

“No, it’s not that,” Aidan said quickly, grabbing Dean’s arm to gently keep him from wandering into his room. “It’s just that you’re on drugs and this is a big thing, and I’d be really sad if you said you would marry me, but then took it back later. That would suck.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t take it back, you idiot,” he muttered, but he didn’t try to continue the conversation. Instead, he stood up on his tiptoes and kissed the tip of his boyfriend’s nose. “Good night. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Aidan whispered, smiling as the older man shut the door to go to bed.

* * *

Aidan was downstairs, eating a late breakfast--it was nearly eleven--when Dean walked into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing at his sore arm.

“Stop it, you’ll pull out your stitches,” Aidan warned, glancing up from his sandwich. “How are you feeling?”

Dean groaned wordlessly, dropping into the chair next to Aidan’s. “Are you sure I just cut my arm while seizing? Because I think I got run over by a car somewhere along the line. How come I didn’t feel this awful last night?”

After passing his boyfriend a plate with cheese and bread on it, Aidan kissed him on the cheek. “You felt better last night because of the drugs,” he explained. “What do you want to do today? My parents are at mass, and won’t be back til maybe one, so we’ve got time to kill before the whole socializing bit.”

“Oh, God, the drugs,” Dean muttered, cringing a little. “I’m really sorry for… basically for everything. I told your parents we were getting married, didn’t I? Shit, not my smoothest move. I don’t know, I just felt really happy and relaxed and decided marriage would be fun, and…”

Aidan interrupted, “You really want to marry me?”

“Not now!” Dean said hastily. “I mean, I’m not against it. It’s like with drinking, yeah? You don’t have a filter, so when you say weird things it isn’t that you don’t mean them, it’s that usually you’d keep yourself from saying them. So, yeah, if things, you know, kept going like this, I’d want to in a year or two…” He blushed and looked down at his plate, carefully putting cheese on a slice of bread to avoid looking directly at his boyfriend. “You can pretend I didn’t say it. Sorry, I fucked that one right up, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t fuck it up,” Aidan assured him quietly. “I was sort of taking advantage of you being all loose from the drugs to ask you about the thought of marriage. I wouldn’t do that if I wanted the answer to be ‘ew, no, I’m never marrying you’ or something like that. And I was the one who said the part about in a year anyway. You obviously weren’t the only one who was into this marriage… idea.”

Dean grimaced. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but this conversation is setting off my ‘fight or flight’ response, because marriage is a terrifying concept when not high on painkillers and, like, yeah, I’d be game in a year or two but til then it might give me a panic attack. I’ve told you this before: I’m a New Zealand male and we don’t really understand the whole commitment thing until we’re… I don’t know, forty.”

“That is not in a year or two,” Aidan protested teasingly. “Hopefully you’ll get to understanding it a little ahead of the curve.” He scooted his chair closer to Dean’s and knocked the bread from the older man’s hand before pulling him in for a kiss. “Hey,” he whispered softly when they broke apart. “Not to sound like a teenager, but my parents are going to be gone for two hours. We’ll have the house all to ourselves. Doesn’t that give you… ideas?”

Eyes wide, Dean stared at his boyfriend. “I’m not having sex with you in your parents’ house,” he hissed, sounding a little affronted. “What if your mum comes in your room this afternoon and it smells all like come? I would be mortified, and you’d probably have a heart attack. You were a mess for hours after Graham caught us making out shirtless, babe. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t survive your mom knowing we’d fucked.”

Aidan groaned in disappointment. “Okay, yeah, but I like sex,” he muttered, leaning his head onto Dean’s shoulder. “We definitely need to go away this weekend. Maybe we can leave on Thursday to do our camping trip. Then it would just be a couple more days here and we could do four days camping.”

“Would there be a lot of bugs while we camp?” Dean asked apprehensively. “I mean, I know there won’t be snakes, because our countries both dodged that bullet, but I am not the biggest fan of bugs.” He shrugged. “There’s a reason I never got into the whole camping thing. Nature is great in theory and all, but I like showers and real toilets and a lack of bugs.”

“A few nights camping won’t kill you,” Aidan responded, rolling his eyes. “If you get really miserable, we’ll drive to a hotel or something, but I want you to try it for me, babe. It’s not, like, a deal-breaker or anything if you hate it, but I think it would be fun and romantic and shit.”

Dean grinned. “Ah, yes, I love when things are romantic and shit,” he said, leaning over to kiss Aidan’s cheek. “Of course I’ll try it, you egg, and if I can survive without hating it, I’ll barely complain. Will there be hard branches under us, though? That doesn’t sound good for sleeping or fucking.”

“Seriously, Deano, I know what I’m doing. I’m not going to put us on some giant tree root or an anthill, and I won’t let you get eaten by a feral sheep. Those don’t exist, stop looking worried,” he added quickly as Dean’s face blanched. “Just trust me on this, okay? I’ll make it really good for you, with hiking and good places for photography and lots of snuggling and sleeping in. Anyway, you’ll be with me, and I’m super fun to be around.”

“That you are,” Dean assured the younger man, kissing his shoulder briefly. “In movies, wilderness skills are always really hot, and you’re always really hot, so I’m thinking that this weekend will devolve into constant sex. Will you wear plaid flannel and let your beard grow out for the week? That’s very manly and outdoorsy and would really get me going.”

“Really? We can’t fuck but you want to talk about how you’re going to jump me this weekend?” Aidan complained. “Yes, I’ll wear flannel and grow a beard, but I expect to be tackled to the ground for highly athletic sex at least once a day.”

Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, it’s going to be more than that. I’ll bring some of your, uh, favorite clothing pieces, and we’ll get all freaky in the middle of nowhere.” His wide grin became a little softer as he put a hand on Aidan’s thigh. “Look, Aid, I know we’re mostly just bitching about horniness and how I talk about marriage while on opiates, but I really fucking love you. I can’t imagine a better way to spend the month off than with you.”

Aidan beamed. “I love you too, fear of camping and all.”

 


	15. Heading Out Camping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I haven't written in this story for over a month. Sorry about that, y'all. I'm working really hard right now and training, so I have less free time, and I'm writing this and my Paralympic AU. The past few weeks I've felt a little more inspired by my Paralympic AU, but I'm making a point of writing some every day now, and trying to work on each story at least once a week, regardless of which one I'm more into at the moment.
> 
> In other words, I'm hoping to have more frequent/regular updates. Hope you like this one, even though it's a bit late :)

Thursday morning at ten o’clock, Aidan merged onto the highway and settled back into his seat, glancing over at Dean and smiling as the older man bobbed his head to the music playing in the car. “Excited for your first real camping trip?” he asked cheerfully. “No, the ones with showers at the campsite don’t count,” he added, before his boyfriend could protest.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, grinning. “I mean, the fact you actually did the wild man thing and grew your beard out and packed a bunch of flannel shirts is helping with my excitement, but even not counting that, I’m happy that I’m doing this with you. Since my health has been kind of rough lately, a long weekend with the man I love and no responsibilities is exactly what I need.”

Aidan nodded. “The entire point of being in Ireland at all is that your only responsibility is hanging out with me and my family,” he explained. “Let me know if anything gets too much, though, ‘cause your health comes first.” He was trying to keep from being overbearing, but he was worried about the New Zealander, and was willing to do anything it took to at least lessen the strain of health problems. Two days before they had flown to Ireland, he had been in the waiting room, reading a magazine while Dean had a quick appointment with his neurologist, and had heard the two discussing surgery while coming to the front to pay for the visit. Aidan hadn’t brought it up with the older man--after all, he wasn’t supposed to have heard that--but was trying to make everything as easy on Dean as possible, because to be at the point of considering brain surgery was pretty big.

Dean laughed. “I wouldn’t promise that if I were you,” he told the younger man teasingly. “What if I have another freak out about being with your family and claim health problems to run away from them?”

“I can tell when you’re lying, so good luck with that,” Aidan replied cheerfully. “Seriously, though, have you been feeling okay? You’ve been looking tired all week, babe.”

“I promise, I’m fine,” Dean assured his boyfriend for the umpteenth time. “We just traveled halfway around the entire world. A twelve-hour time difference makes everyone tired. You’re tired too, aren’t you?”

Turning the radio down with one hand to make conversation easier, Aidan sighed. “Not as tired as you,” he said softly. “Look, I don’t want you to feel defensive or anything, but you seem to be having a really shitty time right now, and I just worry that something needs to change in your meds or something so you’ll be okay when we head back to work.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He loved Aidan, and he supposed it was sweet that the younger man was worrying, but the constant questions and discussions of how healthy he looked were getting a little annoying. “Aidan, if I’m still fucked up in a week, then we can actually freak out about it,” he finally said grudgingly, deciding a compromise was better than arguing about the Irishman’s overbearing questions. “Just… you’re getting me all stressed out. Can we please not talk about this for the weekend? I want a few days where I don’t have to think about epilepsy except in terms of actually taking my meds. I just want to think about how weird it is not to shower for four days and how attractive you are with that beard, okay?”

“Okay,” Aidan agreed. “Well, my ma gave us some good snacks and breakfast stuff, and we have meat to cook over a fire like cavemen--like really attractive cavemen,” he amended.

“Do you know how to set up a tent? ‘Cause if not, we’re fucked.”

“How do you live in a country with beautiful scenery and countryside and not now how to set up a tent?” Aidan asked incredulously. “If there were some sort of apocalypse, how would you survive without shelter?”

“I’ll just mooch off you.”

* * *

An hour into the drive, at what Aidan estimated was the halfway point of the trip, they pulled off the highway to stop for petrol and a stretch break. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Dean was truly exhausted. While Aidan pumped petrol into the car, Dean stood next to him and leaned against the side of the car, attempting to look casual.

“Do you want anything to drink for the rest of the trip?” Aidan asked. “I can grab some water out of our bags or something.”

“Nah,” Dean answered. “I’m good for another hour. We going to make lunch when we get there? I’ll be good and hungry by then.”

Aidan nodded. “Sure.” He finished up at the pump and got back in the car, waiting for Dean to buckle up before starting back to the highway. “Look, babe, if you want to nap for the rest of the way, I can turn the music off, or change it to something more… sleepy.”

“I don’t need to nap,” the New Zealander said sharply.

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to fall asleep whether you want to or not,” Aidan argued, starting to feel a little cross at how stubborn his boyfriend was acting.

Dean glared across the car at Aidan. “I know myself better than you do, you know. I’m fine, and, in case you forgot, I’ve had seizures for twenty years, so I’m kind of better equipped to deal with the side-effects.”

“No need to bite my head off,” Aidan hissed. “I’m just saying, you’re clearly exhausted and need some rest before you give yourself a seizure from not sleeping as much as you need to. I’m sorry that I’m not doing exactly what you want and keeping my mouth shut, but you’re tired and grouchy all the time. I love you but when you don’t sleep you can be such a dick.”

“Well, sorry I’m such a dick because of my medical--“

“Shut up for, like, thirty more seconds,” Aidan interrupted. “Every time I try to talk to you about it, you shut me down, and I can’t _not_ talk about it. I know it’s upsetting and stressful, but I’m scared. I know this is not about me, this isn’t supposed to be something where you’re comforting me but right now I _need_ comfort. Please, just give me, like, five minutes where you’re honest, really honest, about how you’re feeling.”

Dean shrugged. “Fine,” he said dully. “I’m tired all the time, but I don’t want to stop doing everything I was doing before. I know there’s something wrong, but I didn’t want to admit it to you because you’ve got your own life and problems, and you shouldn’t have to always deal with mine. I have to figure out what to do for this long-term, because it’s obviously getting worse, but I am in my early thirties and I have to decide if I want to let a doctor slice up my brain, because, oh yeah, that’s an option! One of my best options is some sort of brain surgery, but that feel so stupid. It’s not like I have cancer, it’s just… seizures. Other people have seizures, and they don’t need brain surgery. I feel weak for wanting it so badly, but I am so sick of how shitty my life can be. I love you but I can’t have a normal relationship because we’re always dealing with this!”

“Okay,” Aidan said quietly. “Okay. Do you want to talk about it anymore? Or is the five minutes of honesty up and we should make silly small talk?”

“Um, do you have anything to say in response? Honesty sucks, and I could use a bit of, uh, light comfort?” Dean mumbled, looking down as his eyes prickled hotly.

“If you choose brain surgery, I’ll be there, freaking out in the waiting room with your family and then when you get home for recovery I’ll be trying to cook you a bunch of great food before giving up and ordering delivery. If you decide to keep going with medication instead, I’ll do whatever you need. But, Dean, babe, you aren’t weak if you choose surgery. Epilepsy makes your life harder and you have a bad case, and if you would be happier after surgery, then you should do it,” Aidan said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I just want you to be happy, so I’ll be around for whatever you decide.”

Dean sighed quietly. “Okay, cool,” he said, knowing that was a bit of an under-reaction, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Great, so, uh, yeah. Next burst of honesty, I’ll tell you about what the surgery would be, but that’ll be at least a couple days. I don’t have the emotional stamina for this shit.” He groaned, fed up with the subject. “Okay, no more talking about epileptic feelings. Talk to me about what we’re going to do on this camping trip til I fall asleep?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Aidan replied happily. “So, let’s see. We’re going to get there a little after noon, and then I’m going to put up the tent, and I’ll get you to help a little so you learn, in case of the apocalypse and all, and then I’m going to make us sandwiches. If you’ve gotten enough sleep, after we clean up lunch, I’m going to drag you into the tent for your first try at camping sex, which I’m sure will be awesome, ‘cause we’re really great at having sex. After that, I’m going to curl up in a sleeping bag with you to stay warm while naked, and I’m going to mumble to you about how much I love you. An hour or two after that, I’m going to drag you out on a hike, just for shits and giggles, and then when we’re all tired from that, we can figure out how to make dinner, which is going to be harder than lunch, so you’ll help with that, and then we can snuggle in front of the fire and stargaze and shit until we’re too tired to keep our eyes open, and then we’ll go into the tent to sleep.” While he cast around for what else to say, he glanced over at Dean. The older man’s mouth was slightly open and his eyes were closed as he leaned back against the seat.

Content that Dean was finally getting the rest he needed, Aidan settled himself more comfortable in his seat and continued the drive toward Galway.

* * *

Dean woke up when Aidan gently shook his shoulder. “We there?” he asked groggily. “Already?”

“It was only another hour,” Aidan pointed out. “Come on, let’s get the tent up and then eat. I’m fucking starving.” Giving Dean a few moments to really get up, he moved to the back of the car to get out their tent, duffel bag, and a couple bags of food. By the time he had spread everything around the fire pit that had been left by some other campers, Dean was slouching out of the car slowly.

“What am I supposed to do?” the older man asked groggily. “I know that is the tent,” he added, brightening up to give Aidan a little grin as he pointed to the cylindrical cloth bag that he was 99% sure _did_ actually contain the tent.

Aidan laughed, picking up the bag Dean had pointed to. “Good job!” he said, pulling out the cloth of the tent and the various metal poles. “How about you spread the tent out on the ground?” he suggested, pushing the cloth to the side as he started to assemble the poles. “Once you get it taut on the ground, we’re going to put stakes in those little holes at the corners, and then we’ll run the poles through these loops, and we’ll be done.”

“That sounds too simple,” Dean said suspiciously, looking more awake as he got a responsibility. After making sure he wasn’t going to put them on top of any anthills, he carefully spread the blue cloth on the ground, making sure the bottom was smooth. Once Aidan had pronounced it good job, he slowly hammered the stakes into the ground in the corners, inordinately proud of himself when he managed it without accidentally hammering his fingers even once. “I did it!” he yelled, sounding like a little kid who had tied his shoes for the first time.

“Looks great!” Aidan said, responding with the same enthusiasm, glad that Dean seemed to be getting into the camping thing. “I’ll do the poles if you want to find the sandwich stuff in the bags.”

Happy not to deal with the unwieldy tent poles, Dean dug through the food bags to find sandwich bread and some leftover cooked chicken from dinner a few days previously. In a few minutes, they were sitting on the ground, eating happily.

“Your schedule was lunch and then sex, right?” Dean asked halfway through his sandwich. “That sounds pretty good to me, but, there’s going to be some cushioning under us, right? I’m pretty sure I would get all bruised up the hard ground on my back, and, like, I love when you’re gentle and all but I have waited a week for you to grow out a bit of beard so I can have lumberjack sex and I have worn weird lacy underwear since eight in the morning, including around your father, and they are riding up my arse like a _bitch_ , so if we don’t have some sort of cushioning below us, I’m going to be so mad.”

Aidan blinked slowly, a smile spreading across his face. “Oh, my _God_ ,” he whispered. “I brought some sleeping pads, those will work fine, but holy shit, you’re wearing lacy underwear, and you have been all day, and I am so fucking turned on by that.”

Dean smirked. “I love you. Can you… can you maybe leave on your flannel? And, uh, your jeans? Look, you should stay pretty much dressed, with just your dick out, and I’ll keep on the underwear, and we’re going to have some crazy lumberjack and, uh… slutty slightly-cross-dressing gay man sex.”

Aidan groaned softly. “You’re going to be the death of me, O’Gorman.”


	16. Tent Sex is Great Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope all my Christian readers are having great Easters and all my Jewish readers had an awesome Passover Seder. Everyone else, I hope you're having a great weekend.

As much as Aidan wanted to whisk Dean off his feet and dive into the tent for wild sex, they couldn’t. There were thick pads to put on the ground and sleeping bags to cover the pads with, so it was a couple minutes before they managed to get inside. The Irishman started unbuttoning his shirt, but stopped when Dean’s hand covered his own.

“I said to leave it on,” the older man whispered, grinning. “My lumberjack thing seems to be turning into a fetish,” he added sheepishly. Since Aidan had stopped trying to undress, his full attention was on Dean, who used the spotlight to take off his shirt, then lie back and remove his pants.

Aidan’s eyes widened. “Wow.” The smaller man had on silky women’s underwear, with lace around the edges and rainbow zigzags all across it. “This is probably ridiculous to say, but these make your junk look huge,” he whispered almost reverently.

“I know!” Dean said proudly. “I mean, my junk is nicely sized, but this shit makes it look impressive. Whatever, just open me up, pull your dick out of your jeans, and let’s fucking go.”

Aidan snorted at Dean’s impatience, but he did as he was asked and lubed up his fingers before pressing one into his boyfriend, leaving the brightly colored underwear on as he did so. “You’re so demanding,” he told the older man, smirking down at him as he curled his finger inside him. “It’s a damn good thing I love you so much.”

Dean rolled his eyes, hitching his hips to get Aidan’s finger a little inside of him. “Even if you didn’t love me so much, you’re horny enough to keep up with my demands,” he pointed out, glancing down at the bulge in the Irishman’s jeans. “Your dick is how I imagine lumberjack dicks to be. I mean, size-wise.”

Unable to help himself, Aidan laughed loudly as he slid a second finger inside of Dean and began to scissor his two digits slowly. “Do you spend a lot of time imagining lumberjack dicks?” he asked. “To think that I believed this was a recent fetish. You’re a dirty man, Deano. You’re a very, very dirty man.”

“You’re one to talk,” Dean teased back, riding Aidan’s fingers a little harder. “You’re the one who likes his boyfriend in women’s underwear.” He reached a hand up and pulled on his boyfriend’s hair to bring him down into a kiss, shuddering happily when the younger man’s flannel shirt brushed up against his own sensitive nipples. “Fuck,” he gasped when they broke apart for breath. “Okay, yeah, less foreplay, more opening me up super fast because I want you in me right fucking now.” He grunted in appreciation when Aidan pushed in a third finger. “Yes, like that…”

Aidan bit down gently on Dean’s neck. “God, babe,” he groaned, grinding down into the sleeping pad below them to try to get some much-needed friction for his aching erection. “You’re so gorgeous,” he gasped, rubbing his chest against the New Zealander’s; he had noticed how responsive the older man had been to that a few seconds previously. He was not disappointed this time, as Dean immediately arched into him and moaned loudly.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready,” Dean cried out loudly, realizing that he could make as much noise as he wanted. “Just… do it, babe,” he begged, thrusting down on Aidan’s fingers roughly to prove his point.

With a sigh of relief, Aidan pulled out his fingers and sat up on his knees to unzip his pants. “Ask and you shall receive,” he said, grinning as he pulled out his cock, rolled on a condom, and slicked himself up. “Fuck,” he groaned in anticipation as he carefully tugged Dean’s underwear aside and lined himself up.

As soon as Aidan slipped just the tip of his erection into Dean, the older man thrust down hard, taking him in one firm push. “Okay, I feel like lumberjack sex is probably really rough,” he panted, grinning at how shocked the brunet looked at suddenly being balls-deep inside him. “So… yeah, fuck me as hard as you goddamn can.”

Aidan gasped loudly, willing himself not to come right away. Dean was so tight after only a cursory opening, and to be inside so quickly was nearly his undoing. “Do you want me to mutter… lumberjack things?” he asked breathlessly, beginning a punishing rhythm, thrusting not only quickly but also as deeply as possible. “Um… timber?”

The best thing about their relationship was that even in the middle of mind-blowing sex, Aidan could make Dean laugh. He huffed out a few chuckles, but the pleasure quickly turned his laughs to groans. “Maybe not that,” he answered. “Just… keep going. Lean down on me,” he added, grabbing the younger man’s shoulder to force their chests together. He wasn’t sure what it was about the texture of flannel, but it was driving him crazy at that moment. The feeling of Aidan’s jeans brushing against his ass and the inside of the thighs was wonderful too. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Leaning down was making Dean wild, so Aidan decided it was okay that he couldn't see the older man’s underwear; there would be plenty of opportunities for that over the weekend. “You’re amazing,” he moaned, letting his head drop next to Dean’s as he drove himself hard into the blond. “You think you can get off like this, or do I need to touch you?”

“I’ll get off like this,” Dean assured his boyfriend, clawing at his flannel-covered back. “Not right now, right? Please make it last a bit, babe. Please!”

Aidan bit his lip, a guilty expression mixing in with the pleasure on his face. “I’ll get you off after,” he gasped, unable to promise anything beyond that. “Sorry, babe, I just… you’re so… oh, God, Dean!” he cried out, biting once again at the older man’s neck as he thrust deeply inside him and came.

Dean worked very hard not to be disappointed--his recently-discovered lumberjack thing did _not_ involve the lumberjack coming as fast as a teenager in the backseat of his mom’s car--but he couldn’t help the way he flopped back against the pillows and sighed. “Really?” he grumbled. “Aid…”

Blushing in embarrassment, Aidan banged his head gently against the ground. “Look, getting fucked by a lumberjack is great, but so is getting oral from one, right?” he asked, perking up a bit when Dean huffed out a laugh. “See? It sounds great. Give me two seconds and it’ll be mind-blowing,” he assured the older man, pulling out and tossing the condom aside before tucking himself back in his pants and getting to a good position, head by Dean’s groin. He slid a finger back into his boyfriend to rub over his prostate, pulling out the older man’s erection to suck at the head.

“Oh, okay, yeah, this… this is good,” Dean mumbled. He reached down and twisted his fingers into Aidan’s hair. “I take back being annoyed. Yeah, just a little harder,” he added, pushing gently on his boyfriend’s head in hopes of getting deep-throated. “Oh…oh! Fuck!” he gasped when Aidan took the hint and sucked him down as far as he could. “Yeah!” Careful not to choke his not-terribly-experienced boyfriend, he thrust up a little, grunting loudly.

Pleased that Dean was enjoying it, Aidan relaxed his throat as much as possible and massaged the Kiwi’s prostate a little harder. He could tell Dean was close when he started to choke on his words, and the older man had barely gasped out “Aid!” before he came, nearly choking the brunet before he managed to swallow fast enough.

Aidan pulled off of Dean, coughing a little before kissing the blond man’s stomach. “Forgive me for a bit of premature ejaculation?” he asked, grinning as he propped his chin on Dean’s stomach.

“Of course,” Dean said, smiling back down at his boyfriend. “Sorry for snapping at you. You’re great.” He sat up a little. “Clothes, please?”

Even though Aidan loved how Dean looked wearing only women’s underwear, he knew that the older man felt a little exposed like that, even if Aidan was the only one around to see him. He scooted around the tent and handed Dean his jeans and his shirt. “Want to rest for a bit before we hike?” he asked. He felt a little exhausted, but was happy to do what Dean wanted.

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

“What exactly is the surgery?” Aidan asked quietly. “I mean… what do they do in your brain?”

They were sitting next to the fire, a chicken breast wrapped up in aluminum foil sitting at the bottom of the flames. Aidan knew that he had promised his boyfriend that he would lay off the questions and the worries for a few days, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the surgery. He had thought about it throughout their whole hike, each of them lost in their own heads.

Dean sighed. He had known that Aidan would bring it up sooner rather than later, and he had resigned himself to explaining it rather than arguing about whether or not they should talk about it. “There are two options. There’s functionally disconnecting the portion of my brain that causes the seizures, and there’s the ‘implantation of a stimulation device.’” Aidan could practically hear the quotation marks around the strange words as Dean said them, his voice just a little stilted for a few seconds. “It would go into my chest and snake up to stimulate my brain. There a couple of different nerves they could stimulate, but my doctor suggests the vagus nerve. I have no idea what I’m supposed to choose, or even if I want to choose one of them at all,” he said, his voice a little strained. “Someone cutting open my chest to throw something into it and then connect it to a fucking nerve in my head? What the fuck is up with that? Or--or disconnecting a part of my brain? Brains are meant to be whole and together, not just physically connected.”

“Wow,” Aidan breathed out. “I didn’t know that was a thing anyone did. What does it mean to functionally disconnect your brain, anyway?”

“They isolate it so it doesn’t really connect. That way if a seizure starts, it can’t move to the rest of my brain.” Dean sighed again, chin in his hands as he watched the flames dance around. “I think that if I actually decide to go through with a surgery, I think I’d pick the, uh, stimulation implant one. I’d feel better with someone sticking a pacemaker-thingy in my chest and hooking it up to my brain than with them making a part of my brain stop communicating with the rest of it.”

Aidan nodded slowly. “That makes sense,” he said as he processed the information. “If you go through with surgery, do you think you’d do it soon?”

“I’ll finish filming, and then I think I’ll decide. If things get a bit better, I’m probably not going to do it, ‘cause it’s way to big to do if everything is manageable. But if things get worse or even just stay like this, I think I will. I can’t live like this, Aid. I’m barely making it through filming right now, and I want to keep acting. If I’m struggling to keep going when I’ve got a huge support system including my boyfriend around all the time, how can I be okay on a set without all of that? What if I have to live alone on set for a couple months and I cut myself with a knife like last week? I want to be with you and I want both of us to have careers, so you can leave to go film stuff and I can go film stuff and we don’t have to have schedules where we’re together every night because I’m not safe alone. I’m pretty sure after a year of having to pass on opportunities or travel with me when you want to do something else, you’re going to get pissed off and leave and I don’t really want that because I really love you--“

“Dean, please just stop for a second and breathe,” Aidan interrupted quickly. “I love you, and somewhat inconvenient traveling isn’t a deal breaker. You need to calm down and not get ahead of yourself. Let’s see how the next couple weeks go, and how it is when we go back to filming. Maybe the medication will work better once it’s spent a few weeks in your system?” The younger man shrugged. “I mean, is that how it works? I’m not sure.”

“Probably not,” Dean replied slowly. “I’m still going to wait and see, like you say, but it still sucks.” He kicked at the dirt in front of him. “Do you think the chicken’s done yet?” he asked, desperate to change the subject. “I’m hungry. The sex and the hiking gave me an appetite.”

“Give it another five minutes,” Aidan said, checking his watch. “Food poisoning from undercooked chicken would really ruin the weekend, babe.” He scooted a little closer to Dean and leaned his head onto the older man’s shoulder. “Temperature’s going to drop a bit soon, you might want a long-sleeve shirt.”

Dean groaned. “Yeah, but I’m lazy and my shirts are all inside the tent.” He kissed Aidan’s temple gently. “You could go get one for me, if you want.”

Aidan snorted. “Really?” he asked, laughing as he buried his face in Dean’s neck. “You trying to make me your bitch, babe?” he teased. “Give me a few minutes to get the motivation, and I’ll do it,” he agreed easily.

“I could get used to this,” the New Zealander commented. “The whole thing where you indulge my laziness. It’s pretty fun for me, you know.” He grinned and kissed Aidan’s jaw. “No wonder high-me was so obsessed with marrying you.”

Pulling his boyfriend even closer, Aidan blushed, clearly taking a moment to decide what he was going to say. Firming up his resolve and deciding to ask a question that was a little more serious, he said, “What would high-Dean say about having kids with me?”

Dean sat straight up in shock. “Kids?” he repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a thing for minor cliff-hangers. Sorry!


	17. Camping

Oh, jeez. Aidan was pretty sure he had just fucked up the moment. They had been dating for less than a year; why the hell was he talking about kids? He was going to send his boyfriend screaming to the hills, and then Peter would have to replace Fili, _again_ , and his life would be awful on all fronts. Fuck.

Dean sighed softly. “High-me would be naming kids already and looking up adoption stuff on the internet,” he said quietly, looking down at his shoes. “Sober-me, though, is thinking about how if I had a seizure while holding a baby, I could give them brain damage or kill them.” Tears prickled in his eyes, and he chewed on his lip. He was in his thirties and other guys could have children and he fucking _loved_ babies, because they were so cute and cuddly. “High-me would be really happy, but sober-me kind of hates you for bringing this up.” He scuffed the toe of his shoe in the dirt, still not looking up. “Do you get that? I’ve never held a baby, because everyone I know who has babies knows how much I could hurt them. I can’t have kids, Aidan. I can’t even be alone with someone else’s little kids.”

“I’m sorry,” Aidan whispered, hugging Dean to his chest tightly. “I didn’t think… hey, it’s okay, don’t freak out, who needs kids anyway? They’re loud and throw up all the time and grow up into awful teenagers--“

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean growled. “I fucking _want_ them, you idiot. I really, really want them. But I can’t and it sucks. I would gladly take all the other shitty parts of epilepsy to be able to have a baby. I would take the horrible headaches and not being able to drive and the medicines that make me sick and all the other crap I go through if I could still just hold a baby, but I can’t. So, you know, maybe this whole family idea you seem to have involves somebody who isn’t me.”

“I don’t want somebody who isn’t you,” Aidan said firmly. “If we can’t have kids together, that’s hard, but it’s okay. We’ll spend time with our friends’ kids, and… look, maybe your medication changes will make things better. If you have the surgery, and it works, we could have kids. Even without surgery, we could have kids. It would be hard, and we’d have to take a year or two off work so that we’re both with the baby, but we could. You always have an aura, so as long as I’m right there, you could hold the baby and feed it and stuff. And once the kid could walk and communicate, we would be fine. If you want kids, Deano, I’m willing to put in all the work I need to so it can happen.”

Unexpectedly, Dean burst into tears.

“Oh, God, what did I say?” Aidan asked, wondering what had set the older man off.

“I love you so much,” Dean managed through the tears, burying his face in Aidan’s chest. “You’re so great and---and now sober-me wants kids with you too and I want it so bad…”

Okay; these were the type of tears Aidan could deal with. “Yeah, well, sober-you and sober-me are in agreement,” he whispered, stroking a hand down Dean’s back. “But, uh, no need to rush, yeah? Why don’t we calm down and just eat dinner and stuff. High-you and sober-me thought that we should get married in a year, so it’ll be a while before we have to talk about kids.”

“Straight people don’t always wait til they’re married to have kids,” Dean muttered, wiping away his tears and sitting up.

Aidan laughed. “I’m pretty sure there’s no adoption equivalent of forgetting on a condom,” he teased, kissing Dean’s cheek. “Come on, I think the chicken’s ready. Let’s eat and then watch the sunset.”

* * *

“Aid?”

“Mm?”

“You asked me about kids because you want some, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Just making sure.”

Just after the sun had set, a light rain had started to fall; after making sure the rain cover on their tent was secure, the two men had gotten inside and stripped off their clothing to curl together between two sleeping bags, unzipped to be used as blankets.

“I have an idea,” Aidan said cautiously, not sure if Dean would be open to his suggestions. “One of my friends in Dublin had a baby a few months ago and he wants me to come meet him. Why don’t we go together, and I’ll help you. My hands will be right there to grab the little guy, just in case, but you could hold a baby, Deano!”

Dean smiled, leaning his head on Aidan’s bare chest. “Really?” he asked, already excited at the prospect. “Will your friend allow that?”

“I’ll talk to him,” Aidan assured his boyfriend. “He’s a great guy, and if I can promise his son will be fine, he’ll let us.”

“You’d have to come out to him,” the older man pointed gently.

Aidan took a deep breath. “Yeah, he mumbled. “I would. But it’s not fair for me to talk to you about marriage and babies if I won’t even tell my friends about you. I’ll tell him before we go over.”

Already, Dean felt more optimistic. Aidan coming out would show some serious commitment. “Do you think any of your friends are going to do the ‘I knew it all along’ thing?” he asked curiously.

“I doubt it,” Aidan replied after a moment’s thought. “Since I’m bi, I’ve dated girls and been genuinely into those relationships. Well Kevin--the guy with the baby--he might. I’ve mentioned you a lot when we’ve Skyped.” He shrugged. “He might think we’re just great mates, but I wouldn’t be that surprised if he suspected something.”

Dean tilted his head to kiss the Irishman’s chin. “I know you’re worried about coming out,” he said quietly, “but it means a lot to me, I think people will be better than you expect. People love you, babe, and most of your friends are going to get that you haven’t changed just because you’re dating a guy,” he pointed out. “Even the guys who make gay jokes… they’re dicks, probably, but even dicks make exceptions for their friends.”

Aidan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Are you friends with any homophobes who make exceptions for you?”

“No,” Dean answered honestly. “But I’ve been out for fifteen years. All my adult friends knew I was gay from the start. You have friends you’ve known for ten years who don’t know you’re bi. I just don’t think guys who maybe make a few gay jokes would throw away a decade of friendship. And I doubt you’re friends with any major homophobes.”

“Yeah, mostly it’s just calling each other names if they’re talking about their feelings and shit,” Aidan explained.

“’Cause only gay guys have feelings,” Dean muttered darkly. “Whatever. They probably don’t think homosexuality is a sin or anything. Just take a deep breath and tell ‘em. In person is probably better than any other way.”

The younger man smiled. “Thanks for letting me do it at my own pace, you know? I know I’ve been kind of obnoxious with waiting and not wanting to do it. If I were you I would have hated me for it.”

Dean shrugged. “It was annoying, but I love you, and I know it must have been hard to decide whether or not to come out after less than a year with a man.”

“Well, doesn’t matter now,” Aidan said decisively. “My parents know, and in a week my friends will too. I think… I think it will be nice. It sucks not talking to them about you and me, ‘cause that’s sort of the biggest thing in my life right now.” He yawned, pulling his boyfriend closer against him with one arm. “That hike tired me out. We’ll talk more in the morning, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dean kissed the younger man’s chest before relaxing and closing his eyes. He hadn’t noticed how exhausted he was, but within minutes of falling silent, he was asleep.

* * *

 

Aidan woke up suddenly when it was still dark, and was confused for a moment, before realizing that the entire tent was shaking as Dean convulsed. “Fuck!” He sat up, blinking through the darkness to see the older man better. “Hey, babe? You’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispered, wincing at the thought of the bruises Dean would get from seizing over the hard ground. Those thoughts left his mind, however, when the New Zealander began to make strained, croaking noises. He wasn’t breathing properly.

Okay, okay. He knew what he was supposed to do in this situation. There was that special medicine that Dean’s neurologist back in Auckland had given them. The brunet launched himself at their bags and shuffled through them to find the box. Once he had it, he pulled the medication itself from the box, his heart pounding as he heard Dean’s breathing stop briefly before starting up with the shallow, rasping noises. This was not something he wanted to do, and he was terrified, but there was no choice.

Administering rectal medication to one’s boyfriend was not something anyone imagined or wanted to do, but Aidan did it perfunctorily, returning to petting Dean’s arms and whispering soothingly. He was relieved when the medicine kicked in quickly, and he kissed Dean’s forehead while waiting for the older man to regain full consciousness, sighing in relief as he heard his breathing deepen and slow to a normal rate. “There we go,” Aidan murmured softly, running his hand over the skin of the blond man’s chest. “You’re okay. It’s okay, and we’re going to lie here and it’s going to be fine.”

After twenty minutes, Dean opened his eyes. “Move,” he groaned quickly. “I’m about t’throw up.” His boyfriend jumped out of his way quickly, and he had barely gotten his head out of the tent before violently, painfully expelling the contents of his stomach on the ground.

Aidan poked his head out and rubbed Dean’s back sympathetically. “Oh, babe,” he whispered sadly. “Just… puke it out, and I’ll get you anything you need.”

It took only a minute for Dean to move from true vomiting to dry heaves, and he sat back once he was sure he wasn’t going to throw up inside the tent. “I feel like I’m dying,” he said faintly. “I haven’t felt this bad in twenty years. Fuck.”

“Do you want water or anything?” Aidan asked, not sure what would help with postictal effects that bad.

Dean shook his head. “Just some clothes,” he answered, feeling cold from sweat on his naked body. “And sleep. I really need sleep.”

“Okay,” Aidan said simply. “Okay. Here, lie back down and I’ll pull out some clothes for you. You can sleep.” He started moving toward their bags, but paused, realizing something. “I used the DiaStat,” he told the older man. “They were some of the worst convulsions I’ve seen, and your breathing was really bad.”

Flopping back onto their makeshift bed, Dean groaned. “No wonder I feel so fucking bad,” he groaned. “Christ. I’m… can I just have some clothes? How do we even clean a tent?” he added.

“I’ll clean the tent,” Aidan said firmly. “You need to sleep. Do you want me to set up a bit of a bed outside or in the car while I do that?”

Dean shrugged. “Fuck it, we’re camping, I’ll go outside.” He was inordinately happy that they were so far away from civilization, because he had to clean up his grossly soiled body outside before yanking on pajamas. Aidan set him up in the sleeping bag that they had kicked off and had remained clean, and he was out like a light.

This was not the easiest situation to cleanup from, Aidan reflected. Sleeping bags were not as easy to wash as sheets, and they didn’t have any way to wash them anyway. After sitting in the tent for two minutes without moving, he realized his heart was still pounding. Freaked out and confused, he needed to talk to someone. He found his phone on the side of the tent, which had been turned off to conserve battery, and called Adam.

Adam had been an important person for Aidan during filming. He had helped the Irishman through a mild bisexual freak out, and was really great to talk to when he needed advice or calming. Since he was back in England for the break, they were in the same time zone. As it was six in the morning, that wasn’t much of a plus, but Aidan was pretty sure the older man wouldn’t be mad.

“Hello?” answered a sleepy voice.

“Hey, Adam,” Aidan said, suddenly feeling stupid for calling his friend in the early morning just to talk through his overly stressful emotions.

“Aid?” the Englishman said, sounding a little more alert. “You okay? You sound like shit.”

Aidan took a deep breath. “I don’t… I should be? Dean breathed badly and even stopped breathing a couple times and I had to give him emergency medicine, and he threw up after and I’ve never seen that before.”

“We’re talking seizure, yeah?” Adam clarified. “Is he okay now?”

“Yeah. He’s asleep. I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I called you, I’m just freaking out and I don’t know how to clean up because we’re camping in the middle of nowhere, and, yeah, how are you supposed to deal with medical emergency when you’re far away from everything?”

“Don’t apologize for calling,” Adam said, sounding completely genuine. “You’re terrified and I get that. Do you think you need to go back to civilization or whatever?”

“I don't know,” Aidan mumbled miserably. “I don’t even know what advice I want. I’m just scared.”

“Okay, well, let’s start by calming you down a little,” Adam said softly, his tone perfectly measured and soothing. “I want you to take four deep breaths.” Honestly, he was guessing at this point on how to be comforting, but it was better than nothing. “Now,” he continued once Aidan had followed his directions, “what are the things you need to do? We’ll talk through them together.”

“I--I need to clean up the tent,” Aidan explained in a shaky voice, but he was clearly a little better than he had been at the start of the call. “And then I need to… I don’t know? I feel like I’m supposed to do more.”

Adam nodded, despite the fact Aidan couldn’t see him. “How about you start by cleaning the tent, yeah? Maybe you’ll remember while you clean. So, what do you need to clean?”

“I need to clean up the sleeping pad and a sleeping bag but there isn’t even running water here,” Aidan mumbled. “I guess I shouldn’t use the drinking water?”

“No shit,” Adam replied. “You don’t want to be left with nothing to drink. Are you going to stay on the camping trip? If not, just take those things home and do them in the washing machine.”

Aidan sighed. “Should we keep camping?” he asked. “I mean, is it safe for him?”

“Does he want to be camping?”

“Sort of? Like he was hesitant to do it but then he seemed pretty happy that we were doing it. I think he thinks it is a really be thing for our relationship. I don’t want to fuck it up, since it became all important for him, but if he’s sick shouldn’t we go home?”

See, this was the sort of thing where it would help if Adam were actually a therapist of some sort, instead of a random, exhausted friend who had only slept for five hours. “Ask him,” he said firmly. “Dean isn’t going to be happy if you make a decision about him and his health without asking him. He’s not the kind of guy who takes that shit.”

“Yeah,” Aidan breathed. “You’re right. I’ll ask him when he wakes up. Or should I wake him up to ask him? Like I don’t want him to be sleeping on the ground for six hours if he’s going to want to go home when he wakes up.”

“Aidan, look, man, you’re great and I want to help you but I am not in charge of your boyfriend decisions,” Adam said, a touch of frustration in his voice. “Either wake him up and ask him, or wait til he wakes up by himself. So stop freaking out and make a fucking decision.”

“I’ll wake him up,” Aidan decided aloud. “Thanks for listening to me. And talking to me. And… yeah. Thanks, man. I’ll see you in a few weeks back on set, okay?”

“Cool. Yeah. Okay. See you, Aid.”

Aidan turned the phone back off to conserve the battery, and crawled out of the tent towards his boyfriend. “Hey, babe?” he whispered, shaking the older man’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m going to let you sleep in a second, but I want to know if you want to go home. I know you feel awful and you don’t have to stay out here if you don’t want to. I know I made this a huge thing for our relationship, but if you want to have a shower and… and regular food, and a real bed, we can head home right now.”

Dean groaned as he woke up, still feeling sick and pained. “What?” he muttered, not really able to comprehend Aidan at first.

“Home,” Aidan said simply, keeping things as plain as possible for his confused boyfriend. “Do you want to go home or stay here?”

Blinking slowly as he thought, Dean turned the options over in his mind. Here was _important_ because here was where Aidan had brought them, but home was good because of showers and good sleeping. “I wanna go home,” he finally mumbled sadly. “I’m sorry, babe, but I want home.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Aidan assured the New Zealander quietly. “I just want you to feel better. Do you want to go to my parents’ house, or stay in a hotel for a few days for time that’s just us?”

After a minute of clearly intense thought, Dean said, “Hotel. That way we’ll still have our weekend, just in a better place for my health.”

Aidan smiled, leaning down to kiss Dean. “Sounds great. How about you get in the car and keep napping while I pack shit up?”

Dean nodded, sitting up slowly. “Why don’t we find a hotel around here instead of close to your parents?” he suggested as he let the younger man help him to standing. “That way it’s still a vacation, right?” He smiled weakly. “It’s a vacation within a vacation, since we’re already in Ireland instead of at work!”

Aidan smiled, kissing Dean’s forehead. “I love you,” he said softly. “I’ll look up hotels near us on my phone once we get packed up, and we’ll check into a nice place and cuddle up for hours on end.”

“Cool.”

* * *

 

Though he wasn’t going to tell Aidan, who had been so excited about camping, Dean was a bigger fan of the hotel than he had been of the tent. The hotel’s bed was the softest thing the blond man had ever touched. Aidan had driven them around aimlessly for a while, letting Dean sleep, until it had been time to check in, and now they were curled together on a bed and watching television.

“I’m really hungry,” Aidan mumbled halfway through some sort of documentary on ancient Egyptians. “Are you? I can go pick up something light and easy to digest for you. I bet I can find some basic pasta for takeout.”

“Nah, I’ll probably wait til dinner,” Dean said tiredly. “Actually, can you eat while you’re out? I don’t want the smell of food in the room. I still feel like shit.”

“Yeah, of course,” Aidan replied quickly. “I’ll be quick, though, yeah? I’ll be back to curl up with you for the rest of that afternoon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I feel about babies. It's scary when you're epileptic.


	18. In Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Here's a new chapter! Woo hoo!

Aidan took his time while he was out. He dug a book out of his backpack before leaving, and once he was in the car, he drove a good twenty minutes to find a place to eat. It wasn’t that he was avoiding the hotel room; he just wanted to give Dean a chance to sleep without the risk of the Irishman accidentally waking him up by constantly moving around restlessly. Sitting still was difficult for Aidan. No, it was better if he stayed out for a good while.

He sat in a small restaurant, eating his pasta at a sluggish pace while enjoying his book. Though he had read it before, _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ never lost its awesomeness. It kept him distracted from thinking about things like the surgeries Dean had described as possibilities, and how upset the older man had been about his inability to ever hold a little kid. Those thoughts were too stressful and depressing to have on their vacation-within-a-vacation, so instead he focus on the humorous writing in front of him.

After nearly an hour of picking at one meal, he started to feel a little self-conscious; the staff did not seem particularly happy about the lonely guy taking forever to get through his dish. He smiled at the waiter and paid before heading back to his car and taking the twenty-minute drive back to the hotel.

When he tiptoed into the room, he found Dean awake and watching television. “Hey, babe. How are you feeling?” he asked, putting his book down on the side table and getting into bed next to his boyfriend.

“A little better,” Dean answered, leaning into Aidan’s shoulder and sighing contentedly. “I think I’ll be able to eat something in a few hours. Do you have anything you want to do today?”

Aidan shook his head, wrapping his arm around Dean and stroking the older man’s back. “Nah,” he replied lazily. “I can find us something to do, if you want, but I don’t have any burning need to go out and do shit. If you still need to relax, we can hang out here for the rest of the day.”

Dean let out a huff of amusement. “I don’t want to do anything for at least a few more hours,” he told the brunet. “If I’m feeling up to it, we can go out to dinner, but let’s just lie around til then, yeah?” He grabbed the remote from the edge of the bed and began to flip through channels, looking for something good. He stopped and grinned after just a few channels and nudged Aidan. “It's you!” he crowed excitedly. “Fuck it, we're watching this.” He clicked to see the guide and found it was the first episode of _Being Human_. “Oh, look, babe, it's a marathon,” he said, overly pleased with himself as he settled into the pillows.

“Really?” Aidan asked, rolling his eyes, but he made himself comfortable.

It wasn't easy for Dean to keep himself from commenting constantly, so after a minute, he gave up. “That is not your real O-face,” he complained as he watched Aidan's character having sex with a woman.

“Well, normally I don't grow fangs and bite people when I come,” Aidan pointed out. “That might account for the difference, you know.”

“Mm, maybe,” Dean mumbled. “You do bite sometimes, though,” he added cheekily. He turned his attention back to the screen. “Man, the fashion choices your character makes in this show are kind of awful. That hat? That tracksuit jacket?”

Aidan snorted. “He's a vampire, Dean, who's probably a hundred years old. I think he can be forgiven for not understanding fashion trends.” He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend's temple. “Just be glad I don't dress like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean told the younger man, “I wouldn't have been able to see how hot you are past those awful clothes, or appreciate your sparkling personality. Seriously, that jacket is blinding in its weird shiny awfulness.”

“Good thing I have better taste than that, then,” Aidan replied. “If you hadn't noticed this great body, you wouldn't have kissed me, and if you hadn't kissed me a year ago, I'd probably be at home all miserable right at this moment.” He lay down further into the pillows of the bed. “Come here,” he said, smirking. “Why watch me play some vampire on a show when you can snog me?”

Dean raised an eyebrow at the younger man. “Have you forgotten that I threw up earlier and haven't brushed my teeth since?” he asked. “Hell no, babe, you need to wait til after I've kept down dinner before you can get your end away.”

“I'm not trying to 'get my end away',” Aidan protested, mimicking Dean's accent with a grin. “I just want to kiss my boyfriend.”

“Later. Really, I'm not kissing you without brushing my teeth, and I am too fucking lazy to do that right now.” Dean smiled, though, and lay down close to his boyfriend and snuggled up to the younger man's chest. “Cuddling is fair game,” he added, happy to watch his attractive boyfriend on the screen.

By six o'clock, however, Dean was too restless to pay attention to _Being Human_ , and he sat up. “Come on, let's get food,” he said, poking Aidan before standing and walking to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. “What did you have for lunch, babe?” he called out through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Pasta,” Aidan replied loudly, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull his shoes on. “I'm up for anything, really. This isn't a very big town, but it's got a Chinese restaurant and a couple pubs.” He glanced up as Dean came out of the bathroom. “Do you have a preference?” he asked, lowering his voice to a more normal level now that his boyfriend was in the same room.

“Want to get Chinese, just to change it up?” Dean suggested, sliding on his shoes without bothering to untie and retie them. “I could do with some fried rice or something like that. We can grab some food and then head back here.” He grinned widely. “A big, comfortable hotel bed is a terrible thing to waste, especially when we go back to separate rooms in a couple days. Not that we'd have sex in your parents' house even if we weren't in separate rooms,” he added hastily, blanching a little at the thought. “But, you know, big bed in a small town with nothing to do? That's definitely a sign that we should have sex for, like, three days straight.”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “You're hot and all, babe, but I don't think I can keep it up for 72 hours straight,” he informed his boyfriend. “Come on, let's get some food,” he said, grabbing a room key as he headed toward the door. He led the way to the car, which still had their camping equipment piled in the back, and slid in. “Right, I'm pretty sure I remember where the Chinese restaurant is,” he muttered, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of the parking space.

Luckily, he did remember, and they were at the restaurant and seated at a table within fifteen minutes. While Dean was completely relaxed as he browsed the menu, Aidan was fidgety. He knew, logically, that this wasn't a big deal; they looked like two friends having dinner together, and his stupid brain needed to shut up about his fears of being outed and screamed at or kicked out. Emotionally, however, he was convinced that everyone in the restaurant would look over at him and Dean and be able to tell right away that they were dating, and that their meal would end in tears, or in the New Zealander punching someone. Probably both, he reflected, as Dean would punch hard enough to make someone cry.

“Can you please sit still?” Dean asked, glancing up from his menu. “It's like sitting across from a five-year-old. Do you want me to get you some crayons so you can color while we wait?” he teased.

Aidan grimaced apologetically. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I'm just... are we obvious? Like, obviously gay, I mean.”

The older man sighed. “Really? You managed to book a one-bed hotel room for two men without freaking out, but you think eating dinner alone with a guy is going to get you outed? As long as you don't hold my hand or kiss me, nobody is going to notice. So calm the fuck down and figure out what you want to eat, because I'm starving, and if you aren't ready to order by the time the waitress comes back, I will scream.” He pointed down at his own menu. “I'm getting the Sichuan-style beef.”

Taking the wild look in his boyfriend's eyes seriously, Aidan immediately looked down and immersed himself in the menu. Actually, Dean's demand that he choose his meal was helpful, as he was distracted from all his worries about people figuring out that the two of them were together. “I think I'll get the chicken with cashews and vegetables,” Aidan declared after skimming the various entree options for a minute. “Do you want to get some soup or an appetizer?” He grinned. “If we do that, there will be food before our meals get here, so you won't have to eat the tablecloth.”

Dean called his boyfriend a smart-ass under his breath, but that didn't stop him from deciding that hot and sour soup sounded absolutely delicious. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he had last eaten, and he had vomited up that meal early that morning; he felt like his stomach was about to start eating itself out of desperation.

Before Dean could voice this decision, their waitress appeared at their table again. “Do you know what you want?” she asked politely, pulling out her notepad when the two men nodded.

“I'll have hot and sour soup to start, and then the Sichuan-style beef,” Dean said, giving the woman a smile as he handed her his menu.

“And I'll have egg drop soup and chicken with cashews and vegetables,” Aidan added, giving back his menu as well and thanking their waitress before the left the table. “So I sent some texts to a few of my friends earlier, and Kevin is totally up for us coming by to hold his baby next Tuesday night, and then we're going to get together at a pub with some of my other friends on Friday. Should I practice some sort of coming out speech?”

Dean shook his head. “If you script it out, you're going to sound stilted and weird. Just think a bit about how you want to say it, so you don't just scream 'I'm bisexual!' and then faint from terror,” he teased gently. “Um, I have some suggestions, but I'd have to know a little more about your... your process. Like how you figured it all out. We've been dating for ages and you still haven't told me.” When they had first gotten together, Aidan had still been adjusting to dating a man, and hadn't been ready to really explain his sexuality; Dean had been fine with that, because he knew it was tough, but now he was curious once more.

Aidan shrugged, glancing around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear them talking. “When I was a teenager, I sort of thought all guys looked at other guys like that. I knew I liked girls, so I didn't think I was gay, but I didn't really ever hear about bisexuality. I was probably twenty-two before I figured out that staring at a shirtless guy in a movie and really enjoying that was different from just knowing that another guy is attractive and not really caring, the way straight guys seem to.” He blushed deeply, not meeting his boyfriend's eyes. “So, like, a year after I figured that out, I decided I should figure out if I were into men sexually. I told myself it might just be an aesthetic thing, you know? Like how artists see beauty in a subject even when they aren't attracted to them or whatever. I was way too scared to try to hook up with a guy, though, so I went on the internet, and...” he trailed off.

“You watched some porn?” Dean supplied in a light tone.

The younger man nodded. “Yeah, and I liked it. Um, I really _liked_ it,” he added, his blush worsening. “I didn't really hang out with a lot of gay guys, though, so I didn't have anyone to freak out to, and I just kept dating girls and pretending I hadn't watched gay porn for an entire weekend before deleting my browsing history. I kept that schtick up until New Zealand. Adam and Ian are both so open about being gay, and then Luke came and he's the same way, so I started sort of, you know, not blocking out that whole discovery. Then you joined the cast and... I had never wanted to kiss another man as much as I wanted to kiss you.”

Dean smiled to himself, but remained silent so that Aidan could get it all off his chest.

“I went to Adam's place one night, and I was a total mess. He let me in and I just started ranting about how I like men and I knew for years but pretended not to and now I had to stop pretending because this new Fili guy,” Aidan continued, fiddling with the straw to his water. “He gave me a beer and made me sit down and listen to his little talk on how this doesn't change who I am, and it's not wrong or whatever. It sounds so trite and obvious now, but I guess I really needed it then. He got me to talk about why I like you and exactly what I felt, since I was still half-hoping I liked you as a friend and didn't know how to express it.” He snorted. “Yeah, Adam set me straight on that one really fast. After talking to him, I watched a bunch of gay porn, again, and I think this was like one last check to make sure I really like men that way? I don't know, but then I started flirting with you like some sort of socially awkward teenager, and you were there for the rest of it.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I probably shouldn't use that as my coming out speech, yeah?”

Dean smiled and shook his head. “At least not the porn part,” he said with a smile. “Thanks,” he added more seriously. “I know that was hard to tell me, especially out in public like this, but I'm happy to know it.”

Aidan looked at his boyfriend shrewdly. “You owe me now,” he said simply. “I know you are fully gay and have known for freaking ages, but I want to hear how you figured it out. Or your first kiss. Or whatever.”

The older man shrugged. “Okay. Um, when I was a kid, my parents would laugh and say that this other five-year-old was my girlfriend, right? So I just sort of assumed that's what it was like to like a girl, that you just want to hang out and talk and play with toy cars. She was a cool girl, and had way better toy cars than I did,” he added with a fond grin. “Anyway, so fast-forward to being eleven or whatever and getting the puberty talk at school. They talked about how you sometimes get a boner and all that shit when you're attracted to someone.”

“And all the time, when you're thirteen,” Aidan supplied, smirking, but he fell silent once more to let Dean continue.

“Well, I heard about what attraction really meant, and I guess I thought I misunderstood it, because that was what I felt for guys, not for girls. So I went on my merry little way until I was...” He blushed. “So I was watching _Indiana Jones_ , right? And don't you dare laugh at me, because Harrison Ford was really hot back then. Anyway, I'm watching _Indiana Jones_ and my dick is like 'whoa there!' about Indy, and I was so confused, because '80s sex ed in New Zealand never talked about homosexuality. I was kind of a mummy's boy back then, so I go to my mum a few days later and tell her that I thought I liked Indiana Jones the way the health teacher said I'm supposed to like girls. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking telling her that. At least I didn't tell her about the hard-on,” he reflected, blush fading from his face as he began to care less about his ridiculous childhood story. “And God bless my mum, because she told me that the health teacher didn't mean I was _supposed_ to like girls, just that most boys did. She asked me if I felt anything for girls, and I just told her that I liked to play with them. Basically, little eleven-year-old Dean's mum told him he was probably gay. She was really open with me about stuff, so I just talked to her about my crushes until I was, like, fourteen and thought I was too cool for that shit.”

Aidan looked surprised. “She never thought you were in a phase?”

The blond man shook his head. “If she did, she never said so. Anyway, being gay to a backseat to epilepsy once I was thirteen, in terms of shit my family worried about. I was out to basically everyone by the time I was fourteen, and I'm pretty happy about that. I got called a lot of shit for a few years in there, but I lived to tell the tale and I'm really pleased with how my life turned out.” He stopped suddenly, and Aidan wondered why until the waitress appeared from behind him and set soup in front of both of them.

“Here you go. The rest of your food should only be another five minutes,” she said, smiling as they thanked her. She turned away and left, going to check on her other customers and leaving the two men to continue talking.

Once she was out of ear range, Aidan resumed their conversation. “Indiana Jones, huh?” he said, mulling it over. “You don't secretly have a thing for whips, do you? I don't think I could do that. Even if I could, I would never measure up to Harrison Ford.”

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed. “You're safe there. No whips for me. The only pain I like in bed is the tiny bit from when you get a little bite-y and scratchy.” He began to eat his soup quickly, not caring that it nearly burned his tongue; he was so hungry that it was worth it. “Anyway, about telling your friends,” he said between spoonfuls. “You can be pretty honest, and tell them that you kind of knew for a while, but didn't really admit it, even to yourself, until you found someone. You were happy to ignore it until you met a guy you really badly wanted to date. Oh, and use the part Adam did for you about how you're the same guy. People seem to think that this means you've changed, but you've always been bi, just unwilling to let yourself actually, you know, admit it.” He sighed. “Some of them might be weird and do the whole 'so were you ever attracted to me?' thing, or ask you about gay sex, but just tell them to shut the fuck up and go back to talking about sports or work or whatever you talked about before you came out.”

“How are you so good at this?” Aidan asked, eating his soup at a slower pace than his ravenous boyfriend.

Dean shrugged. “Every time I get a job with new people, I have to come out again. I usually just let it happen, you know, like when people start talking about relationships, so it can be a few days 'til it comes up. I'm used to the different reactions and how to deal with them at this point. Oh, and if they do ask you if you've ever been attracted to them, say no, even if you have.”

The younger man raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I was going to say?” he asked. “'Yeah, mate, I've totally wanked over you a million times,' or something? I'm not that thick.”

“Did you ever wank over me?” Dean asked mischievously, his eyes gleaming as he watched the Irishman begin to turn as red as a tomato. “Before we were dating,” he clarified, then paused thoughtfully. “I take that back. I also want to know if you have since we started dating, like when we were apart last break or whatever.”

“We are in a restaurant,” Aidan hissed.

Uncaring, Dean shook his head. “Nobody's near us, and you've been talking nice and quiet for the past few minutes. Come on, babe. It's just a simple yes or no question,” he wheedled.

“No, it isn't,” Aidan protested. “You say that now, but no matter what my answer is, you'll want an explanation. 'Oh you have? Tell me all about it in ridiculous detail, Aidan,' or 'You haven't? Don't you find me attractive enough?' So no, I'm not answering that.”

“I'll tell you if I've done it over you,” Dean promised. “Spoiler alert, I have, and more than once. Want a demonstration when we get back to the hotel?”

Aidan's blush deepened. “Yeah,” he muttered, defeated by an uncontrollable urge to see Dean jerking off. “I assume to qualify for this demonstration, I have to answer,” he added, knowing what the New Zealander was up to.

“That's the general plan, yeah.”

“Fine. When we get back to the hotel. I'll tell you then.”

Dean grinned widely. “It's a deal.”


	19. Hotel Room Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. Hope you like this chapter. I've been all over the place lately with work and increased training, so I'm updating kind of slowly. Sorry!

“Come on, just tell me,” Dean begged his boyfriend as they drove back to the hotel. “Yes or no, babe. Did you or did you not?”

Aidan groaned. “Let it go, Deano,” he mumbled. “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“Because the thought of it is insanely hot,” Dean answered, sounding completely nonplussed that the younger man didn’t get it. “You sounded like you liked the idea of me doing it, when we were talking about it at the restaurant.” He paused. “What if I promise not to ask any follow-up questions?”

With a snort, the Irishman shook his head. “You won’t be able to keep that promise. The second I answer, you’re going to be asking details. You can’t help yourself, babe.”

Dean grinned. “If there are details, that means it’s a yes, right? You wanked over me before we dated. Oh, or maybe over the last break, when we weren’t together. I knew it!” he crowed happily. “And, damn, is that a nice mental image,” he added thoughtfully.

By that point, Aidan’s face was burning. “Shut up,” he muttered, staring straight ahead at the road instead of glancing at his boyfriend.

“Oh, hey, babe,” Dean said quickly, stopping his gloating when he saw that Aidan wasn’t even close to smiling. “I’m sorry, I pushed,” he apologized. “I thought you were joking around or playing hard to get, I didn’t get that you… you actually don’t want to say anything. So fuck it, no answers for that. Let’s just go back to the hotel and try that giant bed.”

Aidan shrugged, blush fading. “I shouldn’t be that freaked out about it,” he said softly. “You’re my boyfriend, and we have sex all the time. Talking about masturbation shouldn’t be that upsetting.”

“No, babe, it’s a personality thing. You aren’t big on talking about sex, and it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me about jerking off,” Dean said honestly. “Just because we have sex doesn’t mean you have to tell me about what you do when you’re alone and horny. Whatever. My offer to demonstrate what I do is still on the table,” he added with a cheeky grin. “That should make up for me pushing you, right?”

“We’ll see how I feel when we get into the room,” Aidan answered, beginning to smile a little. “I mean, I might be in the mood to drag you on top of me right away,” he teased.

Dean squirmed happily in his seat. “That sounds good too,” he answered, leaning over a little to put his hand on Aidan’s thigh. “So, when you say that you’d drag me on top of you, do you mean that I’m going to be on top like riding or… actually on top?” he asked, intrigued and excited at the prospect of the latter.

Aidan reached down and gently slapped Dean’s hand from his thigh. “Actually on top,” he clarified, his cheeks remaining just barely tinged pink from embarrassment. “I know we only did it that once and all, but it was really good, and I thought we could change it up a bit, you know?”

“I’m not complaining,” Dean said hastily, grinning widely. “Seriously, that time was… great. I love getting fucked and all, but topping is awesome too.” His grin turned a little feral as he realized how easily he could rile his boyfriend up. “Yeah, I mean, getting pounded by your big dick til I come so hard I can’t breathe, but I like fucking you too. God, Aidan, you’re so damn tight, since you’re an arse virgin, you drive me goddamn crazy in bed, top or bottom…”

The younger man groaned quietly, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Shut up, Deano,” he said once again, but this time it was accompanied by a teasing, aroused whisper. “That sort of talk should wait til we’re in our own room and you can put some actions with those words. Actions like fingering me,” he added bluntly. “That’s the sort of action I mean. Fingering me and then fucking me like the world is going to end tomorrow.”

Dean exhaled silently, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans a little. “I’m going to give you the best orgasm of your life,” he growled, absolutely confident in his promise. “I’ll fuck you so hard we’ll have to pay the hotel extra for breaking the bed,” he added, smirking.

Aidan’s blush deepened slightly as he turned into the hotel parking lot and into an open space. He leaned his head briefly on the steering wheel once he had turned off the ignition, and then sat up straight. “Okay, let’s break that bed,” he said, smirking. “Come fuck me into the mattress.”

Grinning, Dean practically launched himself out of the car and into the hotel. Aidan was right behind him, and it was only a minute before they tumbled into their room and shut the door behind them. “Fuck, come on,” Dean muttered, pulling Aidan down for a rough kiss as he walked the younger man backward toward the bed, breaking their kiss to laugh happily when they fell onto the mattress. “Gotta get inside you,” the New Zealander muttered, grinding down on his boyfriend.

Aidan gasped at the friction on his growing erection, sliding his hands down the blond man’s back to grab his round ass roughly. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Want it so bad. Get… get the lube,” he ground out. “It’s in my backpack,” he added. When Dean regretfully stood up and walked to their bags, which were sitting a couple meters away, Aidan began to pull off his clothing, Soon naked, he grinned as he watched his boyfriend’s stiff walk, clearly uncomfortable moving with such an erection.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Dean muttered, throwing the bottle of lube and a condom down on the bed next to the brunet before taking his clothes off, leaving them in a haphazard pile on the floor. He climbed on top of Aidan and began to kiss him again, a little slower than before. He broke away from the younger man’s mouth and instead started to kiss and suck down his neck. “How do you want it?” he asked as his lips hovered over Aidan’s skin.

With one hand tangled in Dean’s hair and the other pressed into the small of his back, Aidan was in heaven. “Not missionary,” he gasped in answer to the older man’s question. “I’m adventurous tonight,” he explained, jerking his hips up a little and groaning as his cock rubbed against Dean’s.

“Not missionary isn’t very specific,” Dean muttered, reaching for the lube and drizzling some on his hand. He bit down gently on one of Aidan’s nipples as he pressed a single finger inside the younger man. As he wiggled the digit around, he looked up at his boyfriend. “Do you want it on your back? On your hands and knees? In some complicated position that requires yoga flexibility?”

Aidan grinned, pushing down a little on Dean’s finger. “Hands and knees sounds so… impersonal and dirty,” he mumbled, petting through his boyfriend’s hair and pausing to groan when Dean added a second finger and began to truly stretch him. “But porn makes it look so great.”

“We can try it,” Dean offered, scissoring his fingers slowly and planting kisses over Aidan’s chest. “If you don’t like it, just tell me and I’ll pull out and flip you over and keep going. Worth a try isn’t it?” he asked, looking up through his lashes to see his boyfriend biting his lip in pleasure.

“Yeah,” Aidan breathed. “Yeah, definitely. Come on, give me another finger,” he added, grunting when Dean did so. “I want it now,” he growled as the older man continued to stretch his hole slowly and methodically. “And why don’t you hit my prostate when you finger me?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Dean grinned. “’Cause it’s great to make a guy scream when your cock hits it for the first time,” he said, using his free hand to reach for the condom. Content that Aidan was stretched enough to make penetration not too painful, he rolled the rubber down his cock one-handed. Once it was on him, he pulled his fingers out of his boyfriend and rubbed the excess lube from his hand onto the condom. “Turn over,” he muttered, moving off of Aidan so that the younger man could roll over and scramble up onto his hands and knees. “Fuck,” he breathed, sitting up on his knees and grabbing his cock to guide it to Aidan’s entrance.

When Dean thrust into him, Aidan practically howled. Though he missed being able to see and kiss the New Zealander, there was something great about the strength and angle of this position. “Jesus,” he groaned, sinking from his hands to his elbows. “God, Dean!”

Behind the Irishman, Dean was in ecstasy as well. There was something intoxicating about pounding into Aidan from behind, and the younger man was so damn _tight_ that he felt like he would come far too soon. “Your arse,” he moaned, adoring this view of his boyfriend’s rear. “You’re so fucking great, babe. So fucking great,” he babbled, running one hand up the younger man’s back as the other gripped his hip to pull his body back into Dean’s harsh thrusts.

Aidan cried out as Dean hit his prostate, making his erection twitch as it slapped against his stomach. “Yes!” he yelled, using the leverage from his arms to push back against the thick cock inside him. He clenched hard for a second and was pleased with the resulting strangled scream from his boyfriend. “Come on, babe, I want it harder,” he groaned loudly.

“Harder?” Dean repeated, thrusting as deep as he could into the younger man, his fingernails digging into the pale hip below him. “Fuck, you’re the best I’ve ever had,” he ground out, slamming into Aidan hard enough that the Irishman had to brace his arms against the headboard and let his face fall into the pillow below him. His balls were already drawing up to his body as Aidan’s tight hole squeezed his cock, but he bit his lip and told himself to fucking wait.

Arching his back, Aidan squirmed around in an unsuccessful attempt to get stimulation for his cock. “Holy… holy fuck,” he gasped as Dean’s already punishing rhythm picked up. “I… I… Dean, touch…”

Though his boyfriend couldn’t get out a complete sentence, Dean knew what he wanted. He carefully slid his left hand under Aidan’s body, using his right to pull the younger man into a better position so his left could grab his cock and begin to stroke at the same pace as his thrusts. “Like that?” he panted, squeezing the Irishman’s erection roughly as he flicked his wrist up. “You want to come, baby? You want me to get you off?”

Aidan nodded against the pillow and groaned in response, past words. The position was practically too much for him; not only was it intensely physically pleasurable, but also he couldn’t stop thinking about how they must look. He had seen enough porn to know exactly what the position looked like in the third person, and it was the perfect image to play in his mind while he was unable to see Dean’s face. He rocked his hips back towards the older man and moaned pathetically in need. “D-Dean,” he managed, his tone dripping with desperation. “Please!”

With Aidan clearly about a second from coming, Dean no longer felt a need to hold himself off. He continued to pull at his boyfriend’s hard cock as he thrust harder, watching, mesmerized, where his cock slid in and out of Aidan’s body. He was so distracted by the sight that his orgasm surprised him like a punch to the gut, and he screamed Aidan’s name and fell over the younger man’s back as he came hard, grinding his cock as deep as he could until he was drained, and just his hand continued, stroking almost automatically and unconsciously over his boyfriend’s thick erection.

“Fuck! Fuck! Dean!” Aidan cried out, his balls tightening before a quick swipe of Dean’s thumb over the head of his cock had him shooting all over the sheets, his face buried in the pillow as he moaned.

Once he was sure that Aidan was truly done, Dean dropped his hand from the younger man’s spent cock and pulled out before falling down on the bed next to him. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled breathlessly, reaching out to pat Aidan’s ass. The younger man was still facedown, but he had slid from knees and elbows to flat on his stomach.

Aidan turned his head to see Dean, and to breathe better than he did with his face stuck in the soft pillow. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Fuck, Deano, you’re good. That was definitely a good position. Though,” he added, pouting slightly, “I couldn’t kiss you or anything. I love kissing you while we fuck.”

Dean smiled tiredly. “Me too. I think we should keep to positions where we face each other,” he drawled, reaching down to dispose of the condom now that his cock was softening. “Oh, shit,” he muttered.

“What?” Aidan asked, turning over and sitting up. “You okay?”

“Condom broke,” Dean said, pulling off the thin piece of latex. “I-I’m clean,” he said hastily. “I’m not upset about it because I could give you an STD or something, but we haven’t talked about going bare, and…”

“Don’t hyperventilate, Deano,” Aidan interrupted, watching as his boyfriend panicked a little. “I’m clean, you’re clean, and it’s okay. We can both get tested again if it will make you feel better, but it’s fine. I never brought up going bare because the idea of bareback in the arse was kind of gross to me at first, since I’ve never slept with a man, but… I’d like to go really bare, next time. Not just a broken condom, but no condom at all.”

Dean nodded. “If you’re sure,” he said, calmer now that Aidan wasn’t upset or mad that he had fucked it up. “I’m going to sleep,” he announced, pulling the thin sheet from the bed over himself. “I love you, Aid.

The younger man smiled. “I love you too,” he whispered, content to lie still and watch as Dean closed his eyes and fell asleep peacefully.


	20. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCK twenty chapters you guys! WHOA. Thanks for following the story this long and always saying such nice things about it. As per usual, if you have any ideas or things you really want to see in the story, let me know in the comments :)

In the morning, Dean woke up to find that he was utterly alone in bed. This was a very strange occurrence, due to the fact Aidan absolutely hated mornings. “Babe?” he called out quietly. “Where did you go?” When he didn’t hear an answer, the blond stood up and shuffled, naked, to the bathroom to look for his boyfriend. Since Aidan wasn’t in there either, Dean gave up and peed and brushed his teeth before falling back into bed to wait for the younger man to come back.

Half an hour later, Dean was lazily watching the news when Aidan came back into the room, carrying a bag that was emitting a delicious smell. “I brought you croissants!” he called out cheerfully, dropping the warm bag on the bed next to his naked boyfriend. “I woke up an hour ago and was really fucking hungry. Sorry for abandoning you.”

Dean opened the bag and pulled out a pastry, biting into it happily since it was nice and warm. “Thanks,” he said through a mouthful, scooting close to Aidan and putting his head on the younger man shoulder. “Did you already eat?” he asked after he swallowed.

“Yeah,” Aidan replied, rubbing a hand gently over Dean’s ribcage. “I got tea and a bagel. Do you want me to make you coffee?” he added, glancing at the little coffee maker that was sitting on the side table.

The older man nodded slowly. Though it was vacation and he didn’t have to be fully awake if he didn’t want to be, he worried about getting a caffeine withdrawal headache. “What do you want to do today?” he asked, yawning. “We’re driving home tomorrow, right? Not today?” he asked to clarify.

“Tomorrow,” Aidan agreed. “There isn’t much to do around here, so I’m mostly thinking a lazy day here.” He scooted his boyfriend’s head off his shoulder before standing up and moving toward the side table to start a pot of coffee. “How are you feeling?” he added over his shoulder.

With a deep breath, Dean decided to be honest. “Okay,” he said hesitantly. “I mean, I’ve been feeling really shitty for the past couple of months, so I’m at my baseline for that.” He sighed. “I… what time is it?” he asked, interrupting his own thought.

“Nine,” Aidan replied after glancing at his watch. “You’ve got half an hour.” Living with Dean meant that he was as accustomed to the New Zealander’s medication schedule as the other man himself. “Is there anything that’ll make you feel better?” he asked.

Dean shrugged. “Not really,” he answered tiredly. “Some days I feel good, some days I don’t. I should just avoid triggers today, though. I’m not going to drink today or stay up late,” he explained.

“Okay,” the Irishman said simply. “But tell me if you need anything. None of this ‘I’m fine’ shit when you aren’t.” He leaned against the table as the coffee began to brew. “For me to stop freaking out and worrying, I need you to be totally honest with me, you know? I know I nag you sometimes, but I--“

“You worry,” Dean interrupted to finish his boyfriend’s sentence. “I get it. Everyone worries about me, and I honestly understand. You had to take me to A and E my first day here, and it makes sense you’re freaked out about it. I’m working on being more open, babe. It takes a bit of work, though, yeah? I haven’t been in a relationship serious enough to talk about these issues for a long time.”

Aidan looked over at the older man curiously. “How serious have you been in the past?” he asked. “I’m just wondering,” he added. “I had a girlfriend for two years a few years back, but we were the on again, off again type,” he said, offering up his own answer before expecting one from Dean.

“I was with a guy for three years starting in my last year at uni,” Dean said, smiling a little at the memory. “It was pretty good for the first year or two, but after a while he got pretty bitchy about seizure stuff and stopped taking the ‘rules’ or whatever seriously. He threw me in a pool once and thought it was funny.” He sighed. “He wasn’t a bad person, he was just not… I mean, I get it, you have to avoid some stuff with me and it sucks because when you date me you give up some of the things.”

The brunet stared. “He threw you in a pool?” he repeated. “You could drown. Like, literally, if you had a seizure, you could die in a pool. You told me you aren’t even allowed to take a bath instead of a shower.” He looked a little disgusted. “You let him get away with that?”

“No, I told him it wasn’t okay and he didn’t do it again,” Dean said, a little insulted that his boyfriend would think any different. “You’ve dated me long enough to know that I don’t let myself get pushed around, Aidan. When he got mad at me for peeing on him during a seizure, I broke up with him.” He finished his croissant and stood up to get dressed. “He just didn’t have the innate understanding of what I need that you and my other exes have had. And suddenly getting a bit of pee on him was no longer ‘no big deal’ but something that really upset him. So we split.” He pulled on a pair of jeans before stealing one of Aidan’s soft flannel shirts and pulling it on. “I think part of it was that he got embarrassed. Me having seizures in uni wasn’t a big deal, but then he had a career starting and he wouldn’t want to take me to events. He never said it was because of the epilepsy, but I can’t imagine why else.”

Aidan stepped over to Dean and wrapped his arms around the New Zealander to give him a kiss before he could button up his shirt. “I like you in my clothes,” he whispered. “You’re hot in clothes that are a little too big,” he added. “I’m never going to be embarrassed to take you somewhere. Well,” he amended, grinning, “not for epilepsy, maybe if you wore a suit made out of ugly flowers, I’d be embarrassed, or if you started talking about our sex life at some big event. That would be bad.”

Dean smiled and kissed Aidan softly before wiggling out of the younger man’s grip to button up his shirt and pour himself his first cup of coffee. “Now I want to win an Oscar _just_ to talk about our sex life in my acceptance speech,” he teased as he mixed in a bit of powdered creamer. “This award is so amazing. I’d like to thank Aidan, whose penis has been inside me more times than you can imagine, and who likes when I put on lacy underwear to get fucked,” he began, stopping his ridiculous acceptance speech when Aidan reached over and poked him in the stomach. “Really, I’d just thank you for being great,” he promised, sitting back down on the bed and continuing to sip his coffee slowly.

“Do you want to come out about us?” Aidan asked, suddenly serious. Somehow, he hadn’t really thought about it until that moment, but the fact was he and Dean were pretty damn serious.

“Eventually,” Dean said, knowing this was a subject around which he had to tread carefully with the younger man. “I don’t believe in hiding. I want to be able to take you out and talk about you in interviews without pretending we’re just friends, and I think it’s important to be honest. There are gay kids out there who need role models, and who need to see healthy relationships. I feel like it sets a bad example to wait years before coming out because it implies there is something to be ashamed of or afraid of. But,” he continued, looking Aidan straight in the eye, “I am in a very different position than you are. I’ve gotten roles while being out, and everyone I know already knows. It’s a lot easier for me to talk about being publicly out than it is for you. You haven’t gotten a role while out, you aren’t out to most of his friends, and it’s not going to be easy. I’ve been through the shitty name-calling and whatever else, but you haven’t. I am not going to ask you to go through that before you’re ready.”

Aidan sighed softly, taking a few moments to think. “I’m… I’m torn. If I’d had more gay role models, especially in acting, I might not have spent the last five years trying to keep myself from being bisexual. I want to be that role model for a kid. We can show a healthy relationship, and help you to be a role model for kids with epilepsy, if you want to do that. But, at the same time, I am scared of everyone knowing, and of getting denied roles, or something like that. Is it bad, though? I feel like I shouldn’t want roles from people who wouldn’t cast me because I’m dating a man.” He sat down heavily on the bed and put his face in his hands. “I don’t know what the hell I want, babe,” he finished tiredly.

“You don’t need to decide now,” Dean assured him. “There’s no rule that once we hit one year together you have to come out to the entire world. I’m proud of you for telling your family and friends, Aid. I really, really am,” he emphasized. “I know how hard it was for you to do that.”

The younger man smiled and flopped onto his back. “I love you,” he said happily. “You’re beautiful and patient and smart, and I just want to curl up with you for the rest of my life.” He blushed when he realized he was talking about forever with his boyfriend of nearly a year.

Dean just smiled and finished up his coffee, not pressing Aidan when he was clearly a little embarrassed about that little bit coming out of his mouth. “I love you too,” he mumbled, placing his empty cup on the bedside table and curling next to his boyfriend. “Want to take a shower together?” he asked, kissing Aidan’s sharp jaw. “I could do with a shower about now.”

Aidan raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Are you propositioning me, Mr. O’Gorman?” he asked, craning his neck to give the older man a real kiss. “I’d be open to accepting that proposition, you know.”

After standing up, Dean grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and dragged him into the bathroom, pulling off their clothes as they went.Once the water was warm, they stepped into the tub. “Hey,” Aidan whispered, grinning as he slid his arms around his wonderfully naked and wet boyfriend. “You look so good, babe,” he added, sucking at the older man’s neck. “How did I get so lucky?”

The New Zealander smirked. “You must have been great in a past life,” he teased, running his hands down Aidan’s back and squeezing his firm ass. “You know, babe, I’m getting into this.” He stood up on his tiptoes and moved a hand to grab brown curls and pull the younger man into kiss. The hand that remained on Aidan’s ass pulled their hips together, making them both groan. “Yeah,” he muttered, biting at the Irishman’s lower lip.

Aidan smiled against the older man’s mouth. “This is good,” he muttered. “This is really good,” he added, pushing his hips harder against Dean’s.

Dean moaned softly, squeezing Aidan’s ass harder. “Are you going to fuck me in here?” he asked “Are you?” he repeated. He leaned his head back as the brunet began to mouth at his Adam’s apple. “Babe?” he said slowly. “Is… is that soap?” he asked.

“Is what soap?” Aidan asked quizzically. “My hands are the only things on you.”

Dean frowned. “That smell.” He stared at his boyfriend. “Aw, fuck,” he muttered. “I’m going to fall in the shower, people die d-d-doin’--“ He couldn’t finish the sentence because his arched his back and began to fall backwards.

“Shit,” Aidan gasped, grabbing for Dean and slipping on the floor himself. “Oh, shit!” he cried, curling around Dean as they fell together. “Crap, crap, babe, are you okay? Please be okay,” he muttered, glad he had broken their fall without any injuries, at least to himself, or visible ones on Dean. “Fuck, you’re going to be okay,” he whispered, reaching up and turning the taps off, not wanting to get any water into Dean’s throat.

He held Dean a little more than he usually would; he tended to put his boyfriend on the floor so he wouldn’t get hurt, but if he let the older man down he could concuss himself on the hard porcelain of the tub. “Hey, babe, you’re okay,” he mumbled soothingly, trying to keep himself calm. “I love you, Dean, just keep breathing. Keep breathing. You’re okay.” He bit his lip and took two deep breaths. “We’re good, aren’t we?” he asked rhetorically as Dean’s limbs stopped jerking around. “Yeah, we’re doing great.”

It was fifteen minutes before Dean opened his eyes. “I feel like shit,” he croaked after staring up at Aidan for a couple seconds. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Aidan snorted incredulously. “I’m the one who should ask you that. I tried to lower us down but I need you to tell me if anything hurts. Did you hit your head? Do you think have any bruises on your arse or legs?”

Dean was silent for a moment as he made himself think consciously about his pain level. “I might have a bruise on my leg, but I think that’s it,” he muttered. “Give me a minute and I’ll get up,” he added.

“Take as long as you need, babe,” Aidan said softly. “Do you need anything? I’ll get you into bed if you need. You don’t have to stand up if you’re too tired.” He paused. “Not to nag, but are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

The older man nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured Aidan in a raspy voice, too exhausted from his seizure to care that his boyfriend was nagging a bit. Anyway, it was a fair question, as falling in the shower was dangerous. “Can you dry me off and put me in bed, babe?” he asked. Though he tended to like independence after a seizure, he was too exhauster and in too much pain to try at that point. “I promise I won’t throw up or anything.”

Aidan smiled wanly. “Of course,” he answered, pulling a towel off of the nearby rack and gently rubbing Dean’s body until he was dry. After drying himself off as well, he carefully put his arms under his boyfriend’s knees and shoulders. “Ready?” he asked, waiting for a nod before pushing up with his legs and lifting the smaller man up. “Oh, you are bigger than I--I mean, you’re small but you pack on a lot of muscle,” he said, switching tack hastily mid-sentence when he realized he could be insulting Dean.

“I knew what you meant,” Dean mumbled, smiling a little against Aidan’s chest. “Will you nap with me?” he asked, a hand snaking over his boyfriend’s shoulders to get him to stay. “Please? I just want… I want you to stay with me?” he said uncertainly, curling into Aidan when the younger man lay down with him. “Thanks, babe.”

With his arms around Dean, Aidan kissed the older man’s forehead. “It’s no problem,” he assured him. “I’m happy to stay with you, love. Do you need anything else?” he asked.

Dean shook his head, snuggling deeper into Aidan’s chest. “Just stay,” he whispered, needing his boyfriend close as he battled headache, nausea, and overall exhaustion. “Please?”

Aidan ran his fingers gently Dean’s hair. “Of course, babe,” he replied softly.


	21. Lots of Coming Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geez, coming out. Now, Aidan has had some extremely positive stuff so far. This chapter has some less than positive stuff. It happens, and I don't want to make it seem like it's a walk in the park, you know? Anyway, this has a family member of his be pretty damn angry about it. Obviously, I'm sure his family wouldn't actually feel like this in any way, if he were gay, but still. Sorry. Sudden angst chapter.

“Stop freaking out,” Dean told Aidan firmly for the fourth time. “What will happen will happen,” he added philosophically. “If your friends are dicks, which, for the hundredth time, I don’t think they will be, then you know it and you can move on from it.”

Aidan sighed. “I can’t help myself,” he said slowly. “I want to stop freaking out because it’s not helping at all, but I can’t control my anxiety.” He chewed his lip briefly as they pulled into the parking lot at the small pub. Once parked, he took a deep breath and let it out, and then turned to Dean. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Glad that Aidan hadn’t chickened out at the last minute, Dean got out of the car and followed his boyfriend into the pub and to a table in the back where three men and two women sat. The five people all exclaimed excitedly upon seeing Aidan, jumping up and hugging him while talking a mile a minute about how great it was to see him again. After the minor ruckus, everyone sat down, and one of the women asked, “Who is this?”

This was it. Aidan smiled, the expression just a little strained, and said, “This is my, um, boyfriend, Dean. Dean, this is Anna, Sean, Rachel, Logan, and Mike,” he explained, going around the table clockwise and pointing at people as he said their names.

“Boyfriend?” Logan repeated blankly. After a second he began to laugh. “Good try, asshole. We’re not that dumb. You’re straight as fuck and we all know it.”

Unable to suppress a roll of his eyes, Aidan sighed in exasperation. “Not kidding,” he said simply. “Boyfriend. We’ve been dating for, what, about a year?” he explained, turning to the New Zealander for confirmation. “Yeah, about a year. We met filming, and he’s, um, great.”

Logan looked at Aidan closely. “You aren’t kidding,” he said slowly. “You’re actually dating him. But I really thought you were straight. Didn’t you guys?” he added to the group.

There were nods all around, and then Anna spoke up. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” she asked, confused. “We’ve been friends for years and you never said anything about liking men.”

“I didn’t want to like men,” Aidan explained. “I like women and so I just sort of told myself I didn’t like guys since I noticed the way I looked at men wasn’t the way my male friends looked at them. It’s just that once I met Dean, I didn’t… I couldn’t tell myself that anymore, because I liked him so much.” He shrugged. “Do we have to do the third degree? I brought him here to meet you guys, not for him to watch an interrogation about my sexuality.”

“Eh, I’m kind of entertained,” Dean said, shrugging before grinning and kissing Aidan’s cheek. “Can we get some food and beer?” he asked, looking around the table and finding a menu, which he grabbed and began to read, positioning it so that Aidan could read it as well.

Conversation petered out for a couple minutes as everyone chose food and drink and put in their orders with a passing waiter. Once they had handed over their menus, however, people began to talk again. “Have you two really been dating for a year?” Rachel asked, looking over at Dean and Aidan.

“Yeah,” the younger of the two answered. “Almost exactly, I guess. Dean joined the cast, I had a minor bisexual freak out, and then we started dating after a month or so, and… yeah. Here we are,” he finished awkwardly, realizing that he didn’t actually have an interesting end to the story.

“You left out the part where you tried to flirt with me like a twelve-year-old with his first crush,” Dean teased, grinning widely. “He would mutter compliments to me and then run off, and one time he literally just came up to me, shoved a CD in my hands, and left. He didn’t say a word. Are you this awkward with girls?” he asked his now blushing boyfriend.

Aidan managed to get past his embarrassment enough to shrug and reply, “I wasn’t really sure how flirting with guys was supposed to go. I panicked.”

“Real smooth, Turner,” Sean said, smirking. “Fuckin’ nerd. How did you land a guy with that crap?”

Dean smiled. “I saw past the terrible flirting. He’s pretty great, you know? You’re so much better now that you’re not a ridiculous weirdo,” he added to Aidan, leaning into the younger man’s side. “I love you, even if you are a dork. Plus, you know, in the sack, he--“

“Shut up!” Aidan cut him off, elbowing Dean in the side as everyone at the table laughed, himself included. “But, I mean, you guys should know, I am super great in bed.”

“Ew, I do _not_ want to think about you having sex,” Rachel muttered. “You’re kind of like a brother to me, and that makes all sex involving you gross. So, uh, Dean, how do you like Ireland so far?”

Dean smiled at the brave attempt at conversation in an attempt to keep an awkward silence from forming. “It’s nice. Aidan’s parents are pretty cool, and we drove to the west coast for a bit of camping a week ago. It’s been good, even if it is rainy.”

“It’s always rainy,” Logan informed him. “Like, actually, statistically, it rains more often than not. Welcome to Ireland, hope you don’t mind having soggy shoes.”

* * *

“You win,” Aidan told Dean cheerfully as the pulled out of the pub parking lot. “They were absolutely lovely about this gay thing, and they clearly love you because you’re so cute and funny. I was wrong, and you were right.” He smiled. “My gran, on the other hand, will probably cry and try to pray it out of me, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“What?” Dean said sharply. “I’m meeting her tomorrow! You aren’t out to her yet? Did your parents just forget to mention it?”

Aidan winced, because it had completely slipped his mind to prepare his boyfriend for the upcoming ordeal. “My parents and I decided it would be better for me to tell her myself, in person, and this is the first chance I’ve had to do that. I’m sorry you get stuck in the awkward position of being there for it, but… if it goes to shit, I want you there so I can cry on you or drink a lot with you. Or both,” he added reflectively. “Point is, we’re seeing my gran tomorrow morning, and I’m going to be totally honest about us. She might take it badly, but my da can usually talk sense into her, even if it takes a while.”

“Oh, man, I am now terrified, but okay,” Dean said, already beginning to steel himself for the emotional onslaught that could come the next day. “I mean, I’m the one who asked you to come out to your family, so if something goes less-than-perfectly, I should be there for you. Only fair, after all,” he added with a small smile. “Do you have your little coming out speech for her? Upset relatives are the worst, I swear. They all ask if they did something wrong, like you became a serial killer or something, but they seem to get over it faster. My uncle was not the biggest fan of my so-called lifestyle choice, but he came around,” Dean explained, noticing the curious look on Aidan’s face. “I think most family members genuinely want you to be happy. It just takes a while to come to terms that your happiness isn’t going to happen the way they imagined it.”

Aidan’s face cracked into a little smile. “You’re so full of wisdom tonight, aren’t you?” he said fondly, turning right on the way back to his parents’ house. “I’m prepared for the worst with her. If I’m pleasantly surprised, great, but if I’m not… well, that’s why you can buy alcohol at noon, you know? It shouldn’t be _that_ bad.”

* * *

It was that bad. Dean had fought with Aidan, had cried with him, had experienced his own share of less-than-positive reactions to coming out, and he was in no way prepared for this level of emotional trauma. Man, it wasn’t even his grandmother and he felt like he wanted to die. There wasn’t any yelling. No, see, yelling would have been bearable. Yelling would just be anger and then they could feel all righteously angry in return. Tears, however, were a different matter.

“Why? What did we do wrong? Why did you do this to me, Aidan?”

“I didn’t do anything to you, Maimeó,” Aidan tried valiantly to explain, looking guilty and close to tears himself. “You always talked about how you wanted me to fall in love and be happy, and I did. Isn’t that what matters? It’s the love that matters more than the gender, right?”

His grandmother somehow managed to glare at him through her sobs. “I also want you to go to heaven, and now you won’t. The Bible is clear on this, Aidan, and you’ve thrown away a chance at eternal reward on some… some floozy man and immoral sex!”

“He’s not a floozy man!” Aidan protested.

This, Dean reflected, was why he was happy that none of his relatives were extremely religious. Also, this would be a great time to have a seizure, just to get out of the situation. What was floozy man supposed to mean, anyway?

“It’s so immoral and disgusting,” his grandmother continued. “Really, the things that homosexuals do together are too horrible to think about.”

“Ma,” Aidan’s father stepped in. “Stop being angry at him because you think homosexual sex is repulsive. That’s not a valid argument here. He’s happier than he’s ever been because of this man. His mother and I are just glad he found someone, even if it was a little strange at first to hear that he found a man instead of a lady. Stop crying, because you’re making him feel bad.”

Dean smiled, because he was pretty sure Aidan would feel a lot better hearing his father stick up for him like that. His smile disappeared, however, when his boyfriend’s grandmother proclaimed that she wanted him to feel bad because he was doing something horrible.

“What do you want me to do?” Aidan finally asked, a few tears spilling down his cheeks as his voice raised in anger. “Do you want me to break up with him and pretend I’m straight so that you can be happy while I’m miserable? Am I supposed to go to confession and be told how awful I am and asked to recite a few things? Should I just start praying to Satan now because I’m already fucked?”

“Language!” his mother hissed from a few feet away.

“I’m happy and Dean is wonderful. Why isn’t that enough?”

She glared. “Wonderful? He… he must have gotten to you and turned you into some sort of homosexual, because you were never one before this. When I think of how I…”

“This isn’t about you!” Aidan yelled. “Stop saying that I shouldn’t be dating a man because of how it makes you feel, because that is your problem, not mine,” he added more quietly. “Please, Maimeó, all I want is for you to be happy for me, or at least not mad at me for being happy. I’m dating a man. It happens. Nobody made me this way, and I didn’t choose it, it just… happened. You always told me that God would find me someone and we would meet because He wanted it. Can’t that be Dean?”

“He’s a little short, so if you squint, he could look like a lady. Maybe God left off His glasses,” Aidan’s father joked before his wife stepped on his toe and glared at him. “Ma, he’s right. He’s dating Dean and he’s happy, and if God wants us to be happy, maybe He put Aidan and Dean together. Even if that isn’t the case, you can’t be angry with Aidan for how he feels. You love those romantic movies, right? In those, a lot of times someone doesn’t _want_ to fall in love, or everyone says something mean, but they fall in love and are happy. He didn’t wake up one morning and think, ‘well, I’d better start being gay’ or anything. What’s happened has happened. Stop telling the poor boy he can’t go to heaven and offer him a cup of tea, because I think he’s about to have a mental breakdown. Grandmothers aren’t supposed to induce mental breakdowns,” he added.

The older woman pursed her lips. “I don’t want to have to hear about it, and I won’t have you holding that man’s hand in my home,” she said after a few moments. “There will be no more mentions of it and nobody will argue anymore. Understand?”

Aidan sighed. “It’s a start, I guess.”


	22. Going Nuts in Dublin, Part One: Pre-Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean likes consent. Good job, Dean! Basically, the next couple chapters are all going to be partying with lots of flirting, making out, and dancing entirely too close for public. So it'll be fun :)

“Aidan, it wasn’t that bad. She was starting to come ‘round.”

“Yeah, I know, Da,” Aidan said, standing next to his car with the door open as he talked to his father. “Still, Dean and I are going drinking. We might stay in the city tonight, if we can’t drive back. My gran just told me that I am going to hell because I have gross sex. I’m going to get drunk with my boyfriend. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Dean looked over at the Turner parents. “I’ll keep him from ruining his life or getting his alcohol poisoning tonight,” he promised them, giving them an acknowledging nod when they smiled. “Have a good evening,” he added, and then climbed into the car and shut the door behind himself. “Where are we going?” he asked his boyfriend as the younger man started the car and pulled out of his grandmother’s driveway and onto the main road.

“Dublin proper,” Aidan replied. “It’s four o’clock, and I’m going to start drinking now and get right tanked before we go to a hotel at like eleven. I’m going to get you good and drunk with me, because I don’t want you being some sort of responsible person tonight. We’re going to forget about my grandmother and instead we’re going to get so drunk that we might fuck in public.”

The New Zealander stared. “Okay, to start with, let’s not actually get arrested for having sex in public,” he began slowly. “I am behind getting plastered, babe, I really am, but you need some self control. I know you’re upset but I want you to count shots and not get yourself killed or anything. Oh, and this is a one-time thing. Liquor is not a sustainable coping mechanism.”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “Well, aren’t you a walking A.A. spokesman,” he muttered. “Whatever, Dean, we’ll count drinks and hydrate and eat, but I’m still going to get fucked up and have horny, drunk sex with you.” Before his boyfriend could open his mouth to protest, he added, “I know. Regular relationship rules apply. If one of us is drunk and the other is sober, sex is completely off the table. On the other hand, I’m planning for both of us to get wasted, so that is a moot point. I’ll grab a couple of those little lube packets to put in my pocket and we’ll go to a bar and then a club.” He pulled onto the highway and accelerated to get up to speed before relaxing into his seat a little more. “Dean, I promise this is something I’d want to do sometime here anyway, just for fun. We haven’t been able to go crazy and slutty before, since we’re always with our friends. This is an excuse and a good time because I need to be crazy and slutty.”

Feeling a little better, Dean reached across the front seat of the car and rested a hand on Aidan’s thigh. “If I had known we were going to do this, I would have brought a slutty outfit to change into,” he commented.

“Those jeans are so tight that ten minutes into dancing close to me at a club you will seem damn slutty,” Aidan promised. “And you can always go commando.” He laughed when Dean snorted derisively. “Well, I tried,” he said. “Come on, gorgeous, you’re going to love it.”

“We’re either going to end up at the club fucking early or be ridiculously drunk when we get there,” Dean said, though he didn’t seem too upset at the notion. “Do you want to check into a hotel so that we don’t have to try to do that while we’re so drunk we can barely stand?” he suggested, noticing that the road signs promised they were very close to the center of Dublin.

“Okay, yeah, good idea,” Aidan replied a little distractedly, looking for his turnoff. “You’re in charge of remembering the room number, though. Wait, here we go,” he said, heading to the right into Dublin itself.

Dean hadn’t really been in real Dublin; he had of course been in the airport, but that didn’t really count. Otherwise, he had stuck to Aidan’s family place in Clondalkin, and gone camping out in Galway. He looked out the window as they drove past buildings, half paying attention to the city and half trying to figure out if Aidan’s plan was a fun idea or a really terrible coping mechanism that would only end in tears and terrible life choices. “Hey, Aid?” he said quietly, thinking it was a good idea to ward off the latter. “Do you want to talk about your grandma for a bit before we go out? Just to sort through the feelings or whatever,” he added in explanation.

“No,” Aidan said immediately. “Seriously, I told you that we are going out tonight to forget about that. What would I say to ‘sort through the feelings’ anyway? ‘Oh, she thinks I’m going to hell because anal sex is gross or whatever and that hurts my feelings’ or something? No. Situations like this are why alcohol was invented. I don’t need to deal with feelings, Dean. I know that it sucks and I hate it but I don't feel like spelling that out in a heartfelt conversation. I just want to get fucked up and stupid with you like we’ve never done before. Are you… do you not want to do that?” he asked, suddenly very worried he was pressuring Dean into something he was honestly uncomfortable with.

“No, it’s cool, I just don’t want to do it for the wrong reasons and end up with you really unhappy,” the older man explained.

Aidan, however, was still worried. “Oh, God, I fucked up, didn’t I? You were the one who suggested that rule about no sex when one of us is drunk and the other is sober and that’s always been important because you’re always more sober. Is this a thing? Fuck, this is really late to notice. Tell me no and we won’t, Dean. Seriously, I talk about wanting it and all but I am not going to make you do it.”

When the younger man paused for a breath, Dean took his chance to get a word in edgewise. “It’s not ‘a thing,’ even though I don’t really know what that’s supposed to mean. I’ve never had drunk sex before, and I tend to be more sober than you more because I want to get you home in one piece. I’ve had my crazy days like you a few years ago, and now I’m the stupid worrier. But, yeah, it’s a little weird to think about having sex while drunk. Like, what point of drunkenness are we talking? If you’re on top and I’m drunk enough to nearly pass out and you’re just drunk enough not to notice, that’s a huge issue to me. I wouldn’t be coherent enough to tell you to stop correctly, and you’d be trashed enough not to take the time to try to worm a real response from me.”

“Okay, when we get to the hotel, we’re not going to talk about my gran, but we’re definitely going to talk about this,” Aidan said, far more serious than he had been just a minute previously. “I hadn’t thought about how complicated the rule gets, and I would never want that situation to happen. Is there any way to prevent that, or is sex off the table?” he asked, turning right down a street to head to a hotel that he knew would be good for them that evening. “If you say no sex, that’s really okay. We can still dance and be drunk and do whatever, or we can skip that part and just have a lot of hotel room sex.”

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t do it,” Dean said, shrugging.

Aidan glanced at him before looking back at the road to try to find his way to the hotel. “Shouldn’t there be a ‘but’ after that statement?” he asked. “You seriously just talked about a fear of drunken date rape, there has to be more to your thinking than that.” He sighed. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, babe. I want you to be honest with me. If you are uncomfortable, you say the word and we drop the whole thing.”

Dean almost answered, but they had reached the hotel and he decided it could wait til they were in the room. “We’ll finish up after we’ve checked in, yeah?” he said quietly, slipping out of the car and waiting for Aidan. “Wait here and I’ll get us a room,” he said, leaving the younger man by the car as he got a room with a single queen-sized bed in it. Smiling tightly, he took the keys and ended up bringing Aidan through a side door, up the elevator, and into the minimalist, comfortable-looking room. “Looks nice,” he commented, sitting down on the bed and bouncing a little.

After almost a year together, Aidan found it easy to tell when Dean was being evasive, and this was clearly one of those times.  “Hey,” he said softly, sitting down next to his boyfriend and brushing their shoulders together gently. “Did something happen that made you… sensitive about this?” he asked, a little worried about the answer.

‘No,” Dean said sharply, not wanting to let Aidan get freaked out over something that had never even happened. “The thought of it is bad enough, you know? I’ve had friends who’ve had some shitty experiences or close calls, and I’m not putting either of us through that.” He looked down at his hands. “It’s not weird to be freaked out about the consent issues of drunk sex, you know,” he added, feeling frustrated that he seemed to be the only one worried about this. “I want to feel safe about it. It’s not that we can’t do it, but we need a way for me to feel comfortable and for there to be no risk of… a fuck up.”

Aidan slid a hand into one of Dean’s, not trying to force him to make eye contact if he didn’t want to. “Do you want to have a way to check in? Like, I don’t know, say your name and the date or something to make sure you’re totally coherent? For both of us, I mean.” He shrugged, thinking a little more. “Or we can club without drinking, or stay here without drinking, or drink without sex.”

The older man snorted. “Have you ever gone clubbing without drinking? The music is loud and people are annoying and everything sucks. We could limit our drinking, I guess. Or do a system where, like, we count drinks. You know, use a permanent marker and put a tally on your arm for every drink. We can count and decide on a cut-off for sex. Anything past twelve drinks and no sex or something. I don’t know, I just need to know there’s some sort of system that won’t hurt either of us, okay?”

“Okay,” Aidan said simply. “Let’s combine our ideas, yeah? Anything past twelve means no sex, and even without that we need to do a bit of a coherency test. Spelling or something. I will do everything I can to make sure you totally consent.”

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled, leaning on Aidan’s shoulder. “I know it’s not something everyone talks about but it’s important to me.”

Aidan smiled, kissing Dean’s hair. “You don’t have to thank me, you idiot. You just made sure we can both consent to having sex after getting drunk. I should thank you.”

“You know, just in case we’re too drunk later…” Dean began, lying down on his back and looking up at his boyfriend with a smirk. “Really, you had a hard day. It would be a shame if we didn’t have any sex at all. Come on, Aid. We decided to do away with condoms, and I want to be totally clear-headed our first time bare.” Though the younger man was probably on board already, Dean unbuttoned his shirt and ran a hand over his chest enticingly.

The Irishman groaned softly, toeing off his shoes before moving to kiss his boyfriend’s lightly haired chest almost reverently. “Yeah,” he muttered, easily grabbing Dean’s legs and swinging them up all the way onto the bed so he could fully lie down on top of him. “I agree with everything you just said,” he added, mumbling into the skin below his lips as he began to kiss the older man’s chest once more. “How do you want it?” he asked, moving from Dean’s chest to his neck as he reached down to palm at the bulge that was slowly growing in the Kiwi’s jeans.

It took Dean a few seconds to figure out replying, because Aidan’s hand on his erection, even through a couple layers of clothing, tended to take away any higher brain functions. “On my back,” he answered, voice a little tight as he ground up into the brunet’s touch. “I don’t care about anything else, I just want it on my back so I can kiss you.”

Aidan smiled, nipping at the skin of Dean’s neck before replying. “Let’s have anal sex that really will send us to hell,” he said, squeezing the older man’s cock as he felt it fully fill out. “I’m going to fuck you hard, babe. I’ll make you grab the headboard and scream loud enough to wake the dead,” he told his boyfriend, delighting in the groan he received in response. “How fast can you get it up again once you come?” he asked curiously, stilling his movements as he formulated a plan.

The older man laughed a little at the question. “I haven’t tried for a bunch of consecutive orgasms since I was a teenager and my parents left me alone for a weekend,” he said, rolling his eyes at his own past as he remembered a solid weekend of jerking off, just because he could. “What are you planning, Aid? I can try for you, if that’s something you want.”

“I was thinking I could suck you off and then fuck you,” Aidan answered, almost conversationally, just to see the New Zealander gasp in surprise as he rolled his hips up into Aidan’s still-firm grip on the bulge in his jeans. “But I’m not going to do it if you won’t get it up again fast, because I _need_ to fuck you,” he growled, biting Dean’s neck again roughly. “No, I don’t think I will suck you, because I can’t wait another minute to get inside you,” he decided aloud, smirking when Dean’s expression denoted a struggle to decide if this was good or bad. “Take off your those damn skinny jeans,” he demanded as he stood up and walked stiffly over to the backpack he had thrown in the car that morning, hunting through it until he found a bottle of lube.

Though Dean found his boyfriend more than a little strange for bringing lube with him when they visited his grandma--he could have had something planned for after, but it still seemed weird--he didn’t say anything, because he was not about to break the very enjoyable mood that the younger man had set. Instead, he sat up and yanked off his shoes and socks before lying back to squirm around as he worked on his pants. Skinny jeans seemed like such a great idea until you were hard as a rock and couldn’t get them off, he reflected as he wrestled the zipper open and groaned with the pleasure of his cock finally getting some room. He glanced up to see Aidan getting out of his clothes as well, and he couldn’t keep himself from making a comment. “You’re so fucking hot,’ he muttered, still struggling with his pants. “I need you now, Aid.”

“Jesus, Dean, get those jeans off,” Aidan growled, finishing with his own clothes and getting back on the bed, fully naked. “I’m about to shoot just knowing I’m going to fuck you bare for the first time; we don’t have time for you to get stuck.” He tossed the tube of lubricant onto the bed next to his boyfriend and helped him with his pants, yanking them down and off before throwing them onto the floor, followed quickly by his boxer briefs. The older man still had his shirt on, but it was unbuttoned and spread so that his chest was exposed, and that was good enough for Aidan. “Fuck,” he breathed, looking down at the flushed blond. “Fuck, okay.” He picked up the bottle of lube, slicked up two fingers, and pushed them into Dean’s waiting body at the same time.

“Aidan!” Dean yelled out, arching a little. He had thought they would start with one and was surprised at the intrusion, but in a good way; like the younger man, he was more than ready to go, and the faster the prep, the faster Aidan would be inside of him, fucking him into the mattress. “Yeah, that’s good,” he muttered, jerking his hips to really ride his boyfriend’s fingers. “Come on, you can go fast,” he added, grinding down hard as if to prove his point.

Biting his lip to keep concentrating through a haze of arousal, Aidan made sure to get a bit of lube on a third finger before pressing it inside along with the others, carefully pulling them apart and moving them around to get Dean truly open. “You look so good down there,” he growled, watching as the older man rode his fingers with absolutely no shame. “Tell me the second you’re ready,” he added breathlessly, his own erection practically throbbing between his legs.

“Now is good,” Dean answered immediately and honestly. Skimping a bit on prep was fine with him as long as they used enough lube and he got well and truly fucked right that moment. “Now is really, really good,” he continued when Aidan didn’t remove his fingers. “Dammit,” he hissed, pushing Aidan with enough force to topple him over, long fingers sliding out of Dean’s body as the older man rolled on top of Aidan. “Too slow.”

Aidan could only watch in amazement and arousal as his boyfriend lubed up his cock and sank down on it with a moan. “Fuck, Dean,” he gasped, finally recovering the mental capacity to grip the other’s hips firmly. “Oh, fuck!” Being bare inside Dean was a great idea. He couldn’t remember why they hadn’t stopped using them earlier, but, in all honesty, he probably couldn’t remember his own birthday at that point, because the New Zealander had decided that bouncing was better that rocking, and was riding Aidan like a goddamn cowboy.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, leaning forward to grip the headboard and give himself a better angle with more control over his movements. A particular shift in his position made the tip of the younger man’s cock drive directly into his prostate and he practically screamed, tightening his grip on the headboard to keep that angle exact as he bobbed up and down.

Grunting a little under the smaller man, Aidan slid his hands down and around from Dean’s hips to grab his ass, fingernails digging a little into the flesh as he basically just held on for the ride. Dean was not usually in control of their fucking; he was bossy and all, but he usually stayed under Aidan and was happy to get fucked. This, however, was a _great_ development, because it turned out that the brunet really liked this position. “Dean,” he hissed out, straining his neck up to kiss at his boyfriend’s chest as the older man leaned over him. “Fucking hell, Dean.”

On top of Aidan, Dean was panting heavily with exertion. Riding his boyfriend took a lot more physical effort that lying back and thrusting up against him, but it was worth it. His erection leaked out precome against Aidan’s taut stomach, and his cock ached as it bobbed between their torsos. He would have leaned down to kiss the younger man when he felt soft lips and teeth on his chest, but he was not going to give up the perfect angle he had. He dropped his head down between his shoulders to look at man under him. “You’re so gorgeous when you fuck me,” he muttered, smirking a little when Aidan let out a noise at the compliment. “You getting close, babe?” he asked, slamming his hips down a little harder.

Before he could answer, Aidan had to suck in a breath after gasping it all out with Dean’s extra-hard movements. “Yeah,” he admitted, knowing that the older man would be too. It was their first time going bare, and the position was to die for. “Looks like you need some attention there,” he teased breathlessly, reaching one hand up to start stroking Dean’s cock, loving the groan he got in response. “Yeah, you definitely needed that, didn’t you? Come on, babe, want you to come all over my damn chest.”

That wasn’t a request that Dean had the ability or desire to refuse, and he continued to jerk his hips against Aidan as he cried out loudly and came messily, white fluid spurting against Aidan’s hand and chest, getting all over the younger man’s chest hair. “Your turn,” he mumbled, keeping up the movements even as his own orgasm petered out, squeezing his internal muscles to draw one from Aidan.

“Dean…” Aidan groaned, hands squeezing the Kiwi’s ass even harder as he tipped his head back and felt his balls draw up. He grunted softly through his orgasm, thrilled at the realization that he was genuinely coming _inside_ Dean, with no barrier between them. “Jesus,” he whispered, letting go of Dean’s hips and sagging into the mattress as he finished, pulling the older man down for a kiss.

The blond was happy to kiss, and he let Aidan slip out of him as he moved to lie on top of him, letting his tongue explore the younger man’s mouth languidly. After a few moments, he pulled away, knowing they both needed to actually catch their breath. “We’re going to need to clean up before we go out,” he commented, drawing a small laugh from his boyfriend. “I haven’t had come really _in_ my arse for ages,” he added, letting his internal monologue. “It’s kind of weird. Good weird,” he said hastily.

Aidan didn’t exactly like to think of any previous times Dean had actually had come inside of him, but he couldn’t care. “Let’s grab a quick shower before we go to the bar, okay?” he muttered, carding his fingers through soft blond hair. “Or we can just start out at a club,” he added pensively. “Whatever, let’s get in the shower and then we’ll decide.” He slapped Dean’s ass to make him move, drawing a squeak from the older man before he slowly stood up. “No matter what we do, though, I’m going to dance inappropriately with you. That’s a promise.”


	23. Clubbing

Aidan and Dean decided to shower and nap a little after rolling off of each other and exchanging little kisses, so it was closer to a reasonable time when they left for the bar. Closer, of course, was the operative word. It was still only half past five when they got into the pub, and both ordered a plate of food along with a basic whiskey and Coke.

“Do you know any queer clubs around here?“ Dean asked quietly after they received their drinks. He took a sip, pleased with the strength of it--there was no need to get roaring drunk while in the pub, since they were going to a club afterward. “I can look for one on my phone, if you don't,“ he added. He wasn't sure if Aidan had felt comfortable enough in his sexuality to even look one up the last time he had been in Ireland.

The younger man finished a long sip of his drink before he replied. “Yeah, I know a couple. I haven’t been to any of ‘em yet, but I've heard good things about the Nines,” he said slowly, taking a moment to remember the name of the one that had the best reviews online. “It’s got a good bar with basic things and fancy shit if you want it, and it’s got a lot of loud music and a lot of people.“ He grinned. “It’s the sort of place that you can dance inappropriately and nobody is going to notice or care.

“Good, because the only dancing I plan to do with you is inappropriate,” Dean said with a smirk. “I am so damn excited, because we have never managed to do something this crazy, not with our friends around all the time. You are going to see a whole new side of me, babe,“ he promised. “Think you’re ready for it?” he asked, smirking.

”Oh, I’m more than ready,” Aidan mumbled, blushing a little. “I’ve been wanting to see you all out of sorts and sexy in public. You act all tame back in New Zealand, but I bet you get wild every now and then.” He fell silent as a waitress approached, setting down a plate in front of each of them.

“Here’s your burger,” she said to Dean, sliding the full plate in front of him. “And here’s your chicken. You boys let me know if you need anything,” she added before heading off.

Both men dug in, knowing that it would help their evening not end in vomit and mayhem if they had full stomachs. “Okay, you promise this is just fun and not a fucked up coping mechanism that is going to become a pattern?” Dean asked, tone light but question honest.

“Yeah,” Aidan said, reassuring his boyfriend for what felt like the thousandth time. “Dean, I would have wanted to do this sometime anyway. Now calm down so you can make some bad life choices with me tonight. Neither of us can get pregnant, so what’s the worst that could happen?” he teased, making the older man laugh around a bite of burger. “See? You can’t think of anything either. Come on, drink that up,” he added, nodding toward the drink on the table.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “It’s not even six, yet. You have to pace yourself,” he told the Irishman, but he took a couple gulps of his drink just the same.

Three hours later, at a time way too early to be so trashed, Dean was sort of wondering where the idea of pacing their drinks had gone. It was nine in the evening and they were beyond a little drunk. Luckily, it turned out that the other people who ended up at clubs at nine tended to get drunk pretty quickly, so they were saved from being the only pair to be that pissed. “I love you,” Dean drawled, leaning on Aidan’s shoulder as they sat off to the side of the dance floor, electing to wait until more people were there before they started dancing. “Like, a lot. Even if your grandma is a weird homophobic… weirdo.”

“I love you too,” Aidan proclaimed, a little louder than he usually would have in a public place. “You are, I don’t know, super talented and smart and funny and great.” He sighed happily, running a hand over Dean’s thigh. “Come on, Deano, there’s a million people here by now. Can we dance yet? Please?”

Though Aidan had been the one to proclaim dancing off-limits unless a crowd was already there, Dean skipped pointing that fact out and instead just grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and dragged him into the fray, wrapping his arms around his neck and drawing him in for a kiss as they began to sway somewhat to the rhythm of the music. One of his hands was somehow in Aidan’s hair--he wasn’t positive how that had happened, but he quite liked it--and he felt a hand on his ass that he really hoped belonged to said Irishman.  He pulled back from the younger man when he needed to breathe, and he grinned up at him. “You’re touching my butt,” he announced cheerfully, letting Aidan pull him in closer and move against him more as the song changed to a higher tempo.

“Am I? Good for me,” Aidan replied, beyond caring who saw as he ground his hips into Dean’s and felt soft lips moving across his neck. This was why he had wanted to get drunk with his boyfriend so badly: he was finally able to let go of the fears of being seen and of the embarrassment associated with even mentioning sex outside of the bedroom. “You know, Dean, you’re pretty damn hot when you let loose,” he muttered, tilting his head so that the older man could mouth more easily at the skin of his neck and collarbone.

Dean briefly pulled off of Aidan’s skin, which was just the littlest bit salty from sweat. “You don’t think I’m always hot?” he teased, putting on an exaggerated hurt expression before laughing and managing to worm a hand into Aidan’s back pocket. “Exactly how hot am I like this, anyway?”

Smirking and yanking Dean just a centimeter closer, Aidan answered, “Very hot. In fact, I’m thinking this is a good time to go back to the hotel.” He knew that they had barely danced, but, well, he was drunk and really, _really_ wanted to have sex with his boyfriend that very second.

On the other hand, Dean had a different plan. “You promised clubbing, so I want to stay here for a bit longer,” he wheedled, biting gently at Aidan’s jawbone. “Come on, babe. Dance a little more with me and I’ll blow you before we go back. That’s a good deal, isn’t it?”

Aidan was more than a little shocked at the proposition, but there was no way in hell that he would turn it down. “Really?” he breathed. “Yeah, let’s stay here, then. Definitely.” He dipped his head down to press his lips against Dean’s roughly, deciding that he might as well make the most of dancing without a group of their friends watching. “I love you,” he gasped as he broke away for air, but didn’t give the older man time to reply before he kissed him again, one hand solidly planted on his boyfriend’s ass, the other curled into soft blond hair. Classy, they were not, but fuck if it wasn’t worth it.

Practically plastered against Aidan, thanks to the younger man’s demanding hands, Dean simply let himself be kissed and ground against, feeling the movements of the dancing so much more than usual do to his drunken state. His mind wandered a little, thinking of how they must look to the others, and then thinking of how suspicious they would be if they ducked into the toilets and the same stall… his mind then jumped to blowjobs, stumbling into their hotel room and onto the bed, and the feeling of Aidan inside him, and then, whoops, that was clearly a big boner jamming into Aidan’s thigh. Whatever. It turned out public boners didn’t seem that embarrassing where you were drunk as fuck.

“Somebody likes dancing with me,” Aidan rumbled into Dean’s ear. “I’m not going to be the one who needs a blowjob in the bathroom after this, am I?” he asked, biting at the older man’s bottom lip happily. “You sure you don’t want to head back to the hotel, babe? Feels like you’d have a better time there,” he added, moving his thigh a little to make Dean gasp.

“Yeah, okay, you win. Hotel,” Dean muttered, grabbing Aidan’s hand so as not to get separated from him as they wove through the mess of people and spilled out onto the sidewalk, wobbling a little as they walked to a corner to hail a cab. He adjusted his erection in his jeans and tried to act a little more sober once they got into the cab, but it was pretty obvious from the driver’s face that he was failing miserably. Aidan’s mumbling and laughter didn’t help much on that front either.

Dean was naked and on his back in bed within ten seconds of getting into their room. Okay, to be fair, it might have been more than ten seconds, but it felt like it when Aidan turned around in the midst of taking his shirt off and saw the New Zealander spread out on top of the sheets and idly rubbing his hard cock. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, continuing with his own clothes and chucking the lube on the bed before he dove on top of Dean and began to kiss and nip at the older man’s chest. “What’s your name?” he asked, vaguely remembering some sort of deal about sobriety. “And… and spell it.”

“You know my name,” Dean protested, squirming under his boyfriend in an attempt to get the Irishman to just fuck him already.

“I’m making sure you’re aware enough to consent,” Aidan informed him, sounding rather self-important. “Out with it, babe.”

“D-e-a-n, Dean, O-apostrophe-G-o-r-m-a-n, O’Gorman” the blond recited proudly. “Do you have to spell your name to? I think I said you do. Let’s go, fucker. Spell it for me, and then fuck me into next week. Please.”

Aidan had to pull himself off of Dean’s nipple to answer, but he happily spelled out his name, making sure his boyfriend nodded to him before grabbing the lube and getting a little on his hand and starting to finger the gorgeous man under him.

When Aidan started with two fingers, Dean just groaned and thrust down a little on the invading digits. Since he was drunk, he was more physically relaxed than usual, and he didn’t even feel much of a twinge as the younger man stretched him open. “Come on,” he whined, trying to ride the fingers harder. “I want to get fucked now.”

“So demanding,” Aidan muttered, but he was obviously more than happy to slick himself up and ease into Dean, groaning the whole time. “Fuck, babe,” he ground out, starting to thrust sloppily. He vaguely thought about the fact this was probably not the best sex for Dean, since he didn’t have a particularly good angle and he wasn’t really able to fix it. He moved on instinct, though, and kissed the older man roughly, hands running over the small, strong body beneath him.

“Aid,” Dean gasped, breaking apart from the kiss to throw his head back as his boyfriend finally got the right angle and pounded into his prostate. “Yeah, just like that… just like that…” He tangled a hand into thick, dark curls, needing something to ground him, as he was drunk enough that the whole world felt a little… off. He thrust up as well as he could to meet every snap of Aidan’s hips. “T-touch… touch…” He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he was trying to say before he realized he had something way more important. “Off, off, get off me, Aidan, I’m… fuck, off,” he gasped out, hands pushing against the younger man’s chest frantically.

“What?” Aidan asked, pushing himself up and off Dean. “You okay? What happened? I thought you…” He stopped talking as he saw his boyfriend’s back arch sharply, and he suddenly really, really regretted how much he had drank that evening. “Fuck, okay, you’re fine, everything’s fine,” he muttered, trying desperately to figure out what he should do. Dean was in the middle of the bed, so there was no risk of falling off, and the bed was a _bed_ , he couldn’t exactly concuss himself on a fucking mattress. “Hey, just… keep breathing,” he whispered, settling himself down near Dean’s head and petting at the older man’s hair softly. “I love you, you’re doing great, it’s going to be over soon, so you need to keep breathing, okay? Okay.”

When Dean regained consciousness, he somehow had a headache and was still drunk. “I just seized during sex,” he grumbled angrily. “What the fuck did I do that for?”

“It’s okay,” Aidan assured him quickly. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower and forget all about it, yeah? Here, get out of bed, babe, and--“

Dean sat up and glared at Aidan. “I can’t forget about it,” he hissed, looking close to tears. “This isn’t something that is supposed to happen and now I went and ruined our night out and… and I had a seizure when I was getting fucked and… and…” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, and instead finished up by bursting into tears.

“Whoa, hey, hey, nothing to cry about,” Aidan said hastily, wrapping an arm around his sobbing boyfriend. “You knew it was about to happen, you said something, and we’re both okay, right? We already had sex today, so it’s not that big of a loss, is it?” He winced when Dean sagged against him, seeming to cry harder. That probably hadn’t been the best thing to say.

“Your grandmother thinks we’re disgusting and going to hell and you think I’m weird for freaking out about drunk sex and now I had to make you pull out so I could seize all over the bed at a hotel. What the hell is okay about this?” Dean asked, burying his head in Aidan’s chest, tears sliding over smooth skin and short hair. He felt even worse when he realized they were both still naked, because somehow that made it all the more real and awful that it had happened when it had.

Aidan gently maneuvered Dean so that he could look him in the eye. “Let’s sort some things out,” he said firmly. “It is not your fault when you have a seizure, and, frankly, we have enough sex that it was bound to happen sometime. And if my grandmother thinks we’re going to hell, that’s her problem. Finally, Deano, I love you, and I don’t think you’re weird for worrying about having sex when we’re drunk. You’re smart and you think ahead, and you know what you’re comfortable with. So, let’s dry the tears, get in the shower, and sleep until we wake up with killer hangovers and have to stay in bed til it’s checkout time because we’re too grumpy to move. Okay?”

With a final sniffle, Dean nodded and scooted to the edge of the bed before he stood up and let Aidan carefully drag him to the bathroom. “You’re a saint,” he mumbled as the younger man started the shower.

“No, I’m just not blaming you for shit that isn’t your fault. Come on, let’s get in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too much alcohol is not the best plan when your epilepsy is getting worse. Sorry for a rather depressing end to drunken dancing.


	24. All the Angst. All.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez y'all I don't even know where this came from. I'm sorry that this is basically the angstiest thing ever. I've had a rough couple weeks so apparently shit is rough in my story too. Sorry.

“Okay, I love your family and all, but I’m really glad we’re going back,” Dean admitted as he relaxed into the seat, looking out the window as the jet got further and further away from the ground. “It’s going to be nice to work again, and I miss our dumbass friends.”

Aidan grinned, glad that he and Dean had the same feelings about going back. “Yeah,” he agreed aloud. “Six weeks off is nice and all, but filming is nice too. And staying with my parents for three weeks is more than I can take.” He pulled his book out of his carry-on bag and settled into his chair. “Poke me if you get bored and need some entertainment,” he said, smiling as he began with the first chapter, glad to have an entire book to read instead of just a few chapters in one that he had already started.

Their trip to Ireland had been nice, but just looking at Dean, Aidan could tell that the trip had worn him down. The older man had some dark circles under his eyes, and looked a little paler than usual. Between stress and seizures, life was taking a toll on the New Zealander. Aidan desperately wanted to help, but had no idea how he could. He chewed at his lip as he thought, napping on and off for the long plane ride. Actual sleep would have gone a lot better if there hadn’t been a baby screaming, but he and Dean both shoved in earplugs and tried to move past it.

They were exhausted and rather miserable by the time they got to Wellington, and Aidan was honestly impressed that he didn’t fall asleep at the wheel getting back to their house. They had just enough energy to take their suitcases inside and toe off their shoes before they crashed into bed and fell asleep.

* * *

Dean was not very happy when he was awoken by the shrill sound of his cell phone ringing; he had no idea what time it was and really didn’t want to be awake. “Hello?” he answered groggily, sitting up in bed and stretching his back.

“You back in Wellington yet?” asked a similarly tired sounding Luke.

“Yeah. Why the fuck did you wake me up, man?” Dean asked, too exhausted to be polite, and sure that Luke wouldn’t care. “We got in yesterday.”

Luke paused for a yawn before answering, “I was just thinking we should do something today so that we stay awake and get back on local time. I texted with Aidan a bit over the break and it sounds like it was a little tough, with his gran and everything, so, you know, I thought we could all hang out.”

“If you can get him to talk about that honestly, I’ll owe you big time,” Dean said frankly. “Give us an hour and we’ll come to your place, yeah? I’ve got to get Aidan moving. We expect coffee, good conversation, and some food when we get there, if we’re going to stay up instead of sleeping on your couch.”

“It’s a deal.”

After hanging up, Dean got onto the less-than-pleasant task of waking a sleeping Aidan. “Hey, babe, get up,” he said, gently shaking the younger man’s shoulder. “I know you’re tired, but we need to get on local time. Let’s go over to Luke’s for a bit, yeah?” he continued, smiling brightly when he saw his boyfriend’s eyes open a little. “It’ll be fun. He promised coffee and food when we go.”

“I’m sleeping,” Aidan said crossly. “I don’t care what Luke wants. Shut the fuck up and let me go back to sleep.”

Dean leaned over and kissed Aidan’s scratchy cheek. “No can do. Come on, we can get over jet lag if we stay awake today, since we’ll crash at night. Plus, it’s Luke! He said you’ve been texting him about the shit going down with your grandma and all, so he’s going to be a good guy to spend some time with in person. And, seriously, food. We have nothing here, and I’m really fucking hungry. Babe, it will be good, I promise. I told him we would be there in an hour, so you need to wake yourself up while I shower, okay?”

“Fine,” Aidan muttered, sitting up and trying to make sure that he didn’t fall back asleep as he heard the shower start running. As much as he hated to get up, he knew that Dean was right, and they needed to stay awake for as long as possible to get back on a regular sleeping schedule for New Zealand time. He chewed at his lip, hoping the pain would keep him awake, and then stood up, picking out some clothes from what he had left in the house. Since it had been summer in Ireland and was winter in New Zealand, he had been able to leave clothes there easily, and he grabbed a flannel shirt, a jacket, and a pair of jeans, as well as socks and underwear. By the time he had a full outfit, the shower had turned off. He looked up to see Dean wandering back into the bedroom naked, toweling off his hair and yawning. It was a testament to his exhaustion that he just sort of… looked at his boyfriend, rather than feeling any great desire to kiss him or drag him into his bed. “I’ll go clean off, then,” he said, stumbling toward the bathroom and into the shower. He was rather appreciative of the fact that Dean had gone first, since it meant that he didn’t have to wait for the water to warm up.

In the bedroom, Dean finished drying off and threw on some warm clothes, stretching his neck and groaning softly at how stiff he felt after a long flight. He was happy that Aidan’s shower was pretty short, because he was pretty sure he would have gone back to sleep if the younger man had taken a long time. “Get on your clothes and we can head out. Think you’re awake enough to drive?” he asked as Aidan sat on the bed to get dressed.

“I’ll be good, yeah,” the brunet replied; the drive to Luke’s place was just a few minutes, and he knew he could make it through that easily. His shower had woken him up, so he no longer felt like he was just about to fall asleep. “Do you think it’s okay if we get to Luke’s early? I want coffee and food, and he’s got it.”

“Nah, he won’t give a shit,” Dean replied, sure that it was true. The Welshman tended to be easy-going, and it hadn’t sounded like he was busy that morning. “Let’s head out, yeah?”

The two of them walked downstairs and out to the car, starting the drive to Luke’s place in silence. Both were lost in their own thoughts, and still not quite awake enough to be terribly social. By the time they got to Luke’s house, however, they were talking quietly about what they needed to do before filming started. They made a grocery list and discussed laundry and unpacking. By the time they got to Luke’s, they had a pretty good idea of their schedule for the next two days.

“Hey,” Luke said genially when he answered the door, hugging each man in turn. “You two look a bit rough. Come on, I’ve got some coffee and breakfast in here,” he added, turning around and leading his friends into his kitchen. “So, let’s hear about your break. Your gran sounds kind of shit, really,” he said conversationally to Aidan, getting out mugs and plates for eggs and bacon.

“Seriously?” Aidan said, rolling his eyes and sitting down at the kitchen table. “Did Dean put you up to this? He keeps telling me I’m supposed to talk about my feelings and now he enlisted you in his stupid thing.”

Luke sighed as he put plates and mugs in front of his friends. “No, it’s just that he’s right. He didn’t say anything. I thought of it on my own. For fuck’s sake, it can’t have been fine to have your gran tell you she hates you being happy with Dean.” He pulled the mug away from the Irishman as he reached for it. “No coffee until you stop being an idiot and talk about your feelings.”

“I hate you both,” Aidan muttered, snatching the coffee from Luke and taking a sip. “It sucked, but she’s just one person. Most people don’t give a shit that I’m dating a guy, so why should I care about this?”

“Because she’s your gran,” Luke said bluntly, taking a drink of his own coffee. “Look, Aid, I don’t want you to tear yourself up about it, I just think you’re burying a lot of stuff that’s going to come out eventually and upset you. Just get the feelings out so that it doesn’t eat away at you. Come on, man. Just tell me what she said.”

Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know. She said I was going to hell, which isn’t really rare when you’ve got Catholic family. Uh, she acted like it was something that I did to her, like on purpose, and she said Dean turned me gay, which, like, isn’t how it works, and she would rather me be unhappy than with a man, and talked about how gross gay sex is, but I’m trying to forget that part.”

“Aren’t you pissed that your gran wants you to be miserable instead of being with a man?” Luke asked quietly. “That’s harsh. I mean, your family is supposed to want the best for you.”

With a sigh, Aidan resigned himself to having the damn conversation. “I mean, that’s honestly what she wants. She thinks this is going to send me to hell, and she genuinely doesn’t want that.”

“Okay, this isn’t about me, but I’m kind of hurt by that,” Dean interjected. “She thinks what I am is enough to condemn me to hell. You’re bi, Aidan, so she thinks the same about you. It’s not just that you’re dating a man, it’s being queer at all. She thinks what were all are is so awful that God hates us. That’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it? How does that not upset you?”

“Yeah, it’s upsetting, but, like, not that bad, you know?” Aidan said uncomfortably, shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth so that he could stop talking while he thought. “Why does this have to be such a big deal? I got guilted by my grandmother, and that’s not exactly uncommon in my family.” He groaned. “This conversation is stupid. If you want to interrogate someone about their life sucking, Luke, then talk to Dean.”

Dean huffed out a breath in frustration. “Don’t make this about me, Aid.”

“What made your life suck?” Luke asked curiously, getting distracted from the task of making Aidan discuss his feelings.

“He had a seizure during sex,” Aidan answered.

The older man stared at his boyfriend. “What the fuck?” he hissed. “That’s private!” He couldn’t believe that Aidan would tell anyone that. “What the hell is wrong with you? It is none of Luke’s business, and not even your business to bring up. It’s my business!”

“I’m pretty sure it happening with me makes it my business. And if you don’t want me to bring that up, maybe don’t keep bringing up my grandmother when I asked you to drop it.” The Irishman glared down at his plate. He was tired and had no intention of talking about his grandmother with the two other men in the room.

Luke decided that he’d had enough. “Aidan, we’re letting it go. Whatever. If you want to bottle up your fucking emotions, fine. Do you feel ready to go back to filming? It’s weird, going away for so long and coming back.”

Aidan nodded. “Yeah, it’s going to be fun. I like hanging out with the guys on set, and it’s going to be nice to be working again. There’s only so much vacation I can take before I go stir crazy.”

“I know the feeling. Especially from this, since filming is so--“

“Can I hang out here tonight?” Dean interrupted loudly, causing both men to stare at him. “What?”

“I thought we were going grocery shopping,” Aidan replied quietly.

“Well, I thought I dating a guy who didn’t tell everyone things that are supposed to be private, so I guess we’re both surprised by the turn of events,” Dean said shortly. “Sorry, Luke, didn’t mean to come over here and fuck up your day with fighting, but my boyfriend is a complete dick, so, you know, can’t help it.”

Luke sighed; he honestly didn’t have the patience to deal with this. “Aidan, why don’t you go?” he said softly. “Dean can stay here tonight, and he’ll call you… tomorrow or something.”

Not wanting to further ruin Luke’s day with more fighting, Aidan just nodded and left with a quiet goodbye, leaving the house to get into his car and heading back to his and Dean’s home.

“Do you… do you want to take a nap or something?” Luke asked the New Zealander hesitantly. “You look exhausted, and I’m sure you’re not feeling that great right now. Or… a hug?”

Dean sighed, walking over to the couch and sitting heavily. “I’ve had too much coffee to sleep,” he muttered. “What the fuck was Aidan playing at? I get that he was mad we were still asking him about his grandmother, but that was… anyone could figure out that you aren’t supposed to mention that sort of thing.”

“Yeah,” Luke said sympathetically, sitting down next to Dean. “Not that it makes it okay, what he did, but you know that he can’t talk about how he feels. It sort of shows that we were right. I guess that’s not much comfort, is it? Being right isn’t everything.”

Unhappily, Dean nodded. “That--what he talked about, I mean--that was one of the worst moments of my adult life. It was horrible and mortifying and I felt scared and vulnerable, and he just tells you. If that’s how he felt about his grandma, fine, but he chose to text you about that. I didn’t choose to tell you that and I didn’t want anyone to know. How could he not care?” He wiped at his eyes angrily, furious at Aidan and furious at himself for crying over it.

“He was pretty fucking awful right then,” Luke agreed. “I guess the question is whether you want to keep going after that."

* * *

Graham was watching a movie, attempting to get over jet lag, when his doorbell rang. He didn’t know who it could be, but he knew he’d better answer it. Filming would start up again in two days, and for all he knew, there were script revisions he needed to know before then. He was surprised, though, when the person at his door was a very downtrodden Aidan Turner.

“I fucked up,” the young man said without any preamble. “I really, really fucked up.”

Though he was tired and in the middle of a movie, Graham knew that he couldn’t just turn the other man away. He looked so sad, and he clearly needed someone to help or even just someone to listen. “Come on in, then,” the Scotsman said, moving aside so that Aidan could walk in. He closed and locked the door after him and sat the younger man down on the couch, using the remote to turn off the television before he sat with him. “How did you fuck up?” he asked.

“Dean and Luke were trying to get me to talk about something I didn’t really want to talk about but the point is I sort of got mad and told Luke something really private about Dean. I think he might hate me now?” Aidan said, feeling stressed and close to a breakdown. “I think I honestly just ruined my entire relationship.”

It was more than Graham had expected when the Irishman had shown up, but he tried not to let his surprise show on his face too much. “How badly did he react?” he asked carefully. “His reaction really shows whether or not you fucked it all up. Or how much you fucked it up, if fucking up is on some sort of scale of one to ten or something.”

That didn’t actually comfort Aidan. “He told me it wasn’t my business to say, and then didn’t talk to me and decided to stay at Luke’s. I know he’s right that I shouldn’t say it, and he’s right to be bad, but I think he’s going to leave me for this, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Okay, it sounds like you fucked up really badly,” Graham said, surprised at how bad it was. “Jesus, Aidan, if it was that bad, why did you say it?”

Aidan shrugged helplessly. “Because I was mad and I hadn’t slept in ages. I know it was bad, but I didn’t know what to do,” he explained miserably. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked. He knew that he probably seemed pathetic, showing up at Graham’s door and begging for help and understanding regarding his relationship problems, but he didn’t care. He was willing to look pathetic as hell if he could still keep Dean.

“Did you apologize?” Graham asked. At the look on Aidan’s face, he raised his eyebrows at the younger man incredulously. “You didn’t apologize? Jesus, Aidan, you go and tell someone something really private that upset him and you didn’t even tell him you were sorry before you left?”

“Luke steered the conversation away and I was mad and then Dean was talking to Luke but not really to me, so, yeah, I didn’t apologize. Where the hell would I fit that in? While Dean was telling Luke he wanted to stay there for the night, was I supposed to pop in with a quick ‘sorry’ or something?”

“Yes!” Graham answered, not sure why the Irishman didn’t seem to understand this. “You did something that upset him and it’s not a grey area. You clearly are in the wrong, since you know it too and aren’t even trying to tell me you aren’t. When that happens, you apologize. Tell him how sorry you are, that you did it because you were mad, and that you’ll try to make it up to him.”

Sighing, Aidan looked down at his hands. “I don’t know if I can make it up to him,” he mumbled. “I mean, it was really, really bad, Graham. He’s trusted me for a year and I just blurted out what might be the most private thing for him right now. He and Luke wanted me to talk about my feelings about my gran telling me I was going to hell and all that after coming out, and I just got so frustrated that I was willing to say anything to make it stop. Dean possibly leaving me aside, what sort of person does that make me?” he asked quietly. “I’m the sort of completely awful person who will embarrass and upset other people because I’m a little uncomfortable.”

There were a few seconds of silence before Graham replied, as he was taking his time to sort through his thoughts and come up with a good reply. “It doesn’t excuse anything you did, but they shouldn’t have pushed you so hard,” he said slowly. “I don’t think it makes you an awful person, but I’m pretty damn sure Dean isn’t going to trust you for awhile. I don’t know your relationship, so I don’t know if he’s going to break up with you. Either way, though, you’ll have to earn back his trust. Why were they so adamant about making you talk about your gran? They seem like pretty normal guys. It’s weird to fixate on that.”

Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know. They thought it was weird I haven’t said anything other than ‘it sucks’ or whatever. Maybe they think I should cry or something. She told me I was going to hell, that Dean made me gay, and that she would rather I break up with Dean and be completely unhappy instead of staying with him and being happy. Oh, and she thinks it’s some sort of thing to make her feel bad, because she kept asking why I did this to her, when I didn’t do anything to her. Sorry for falling in love and being happy? Is that what she wants?” he asked, words tumbling out of his mouth a little uncontrollably. “I thought family was supposed to be happy when you’re happy, but no, apparently that only counts if there’s a vagina in the equation. And what is the deal with people freaking out over gay sex being gross or something? I wasn’t sucking dick in front of her.”

Graham cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Not noticing his friend’s discomfort, Aidan barreled ahead. He knew that he was getting a bit hysterical about it, but now that he had started, he couldn’t stop. “I didn’t _ask_ to be bi, so why is it some sort of failure on my part? I tried not being into men and it didn’t work, so she should let it go. Instead, I’ve got a grandmother who thinks I’m some sort of horrible human destined for eternal torment, instead of tea and cookies with God, and a man that if he is still my boyfriend, is never going to trust me again. None of this would have happened if I could have not been goddamn queer!”

“Aidan,” Graham said quietly, feeling pained at the younger man’s logic. “Do you really think it would all be better if you were straight?” He scooted a little closer to the brunet. “You fucked up with Dean. That’s a fact. Your gran was horrible to you because Dean’s not a woman. That’s a fact too. But you can’t go back and say that it wouldn’t have happened if you were straight. You’re blaming yourself like your gran did, and that’s… it’s ridiculous.”

“I could have tried harder,” Aidan whispered. “I could have ignored how I felt about Dean like I’d ignored ever other feeling I’d had for a guy before. My gran would still love me, and I’d have a best friend who trusted me instead of a guy who might be my ex now who probably hates me. I should have found a girl to sleep with and just not done this whole thing.”

It was genuinely painful to hear Aidan talk like that. “No,” Graham said quietly. “You shouldn’t have. You really, really shouldn’t have.” He wrapped an arm around Aidan’s shoulder and pretended not to notice when the younger man began to cry.

* * *

_Aidan’s at my place. He said he fucked it up with Dean and his gran hates him and started crying because he wishes he’d tried harder to be straight. Now he’s asleep on my couch. What do I do?_

Luke stared at the text on his phone in shock. He could get that Aidan would go to someone else to talk to after the morning debacle, but it was the latter part that was so surprising. He knew from Adam that Aidan had gone through a bit of a sexuality freak-out, but this was another thing entirely. He wasn’t sure if he should tell Dean or not, but that ended up not mattering, as the smaller man leaned over his shoulder obnoxiously to read.

“He’s seven kinds of fucked up about being queer,” Dean said quietly. “I knew that part. He’s always been a bit freaked out about other people knowing and about what strangers assume when they see us at a restaurant. I knew that he tried to be straight before, too. I didn’t know he still wanted to be.” He sighed, flopping back on the couch. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked Luke plaintively.

The Welshman put his phone down on the table. “I can’t tell you what to do and you know it,” he began, “but it’s partly a question of how much of this you can take. It doesn’t make you a horrible person if you can’t stay with someone who lashes out when talking about a bad coming out experience. Even without the crap he said today, it’s still okay to back out if he wants to be straight. Hell, if he wants to be straight so badly, he shouldn’t date you while hating himself for it. I mean, it’s obviously a load of bollocks to think that about himself, but it’s not your job to help him through that. And if you stay with him, it’s still not your job. You can support him, but the man needs therapy or something.” He smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Your relationship sort of fell to pieces over the span of a couple hours, didn’t it?”

Dean nodded picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “He’s told me a million times that he loves me, but all along he’s wanted to be straight,” he mumbled. “Why? I don’t understand.” He was going to continue, but his phone rang. Without thinking, he hit the answer button and held it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry,” came a distraught whisper from the other end of the line. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Ah, yes. That was why he should have checked who was calling. “It’s not that simple,” he told the younger man. “I trusted you to keep the worst moment of my life a secret, and you didn’t. And… and now you want to be straight? How can you call me to apologize like a boyfriend when you wish you didn’t even like men?”

“I don’t want to be straight,” Aidan answered miserably. “Well, not really. I don’t know. If I had tried harder to ignore how I felt about you, none of this would have happened.”

“Yeah, none of it,” Dean agreed. “See why this is a problem, Aid? A bad reaction to you dating a man and suddenly that outweighs everything else we’ve had. You need to know what you want before you can do the boyfriend apology thing. Do you want me, or do you want to go back to faking straight? Hell, tell everyone I did that gay conversion thing on you and you barely escaped. I’ll stay at Luke’s tonight, so you can sort out your priorities wherever you want.”

Luke patted Dean’s knee consolingly after the other man hung up. “Things have a way of working themselves out,” he offered.

“Yeah, and this may work itself out with me alone and Aidan pretending to be straight for the rest of his life. Whoop-de-fucking-do.”

* * *

It was past midnight in New Zealand when Aidan picked up his phone and dialed, but his mother still answered, since it midday in Ireland. “Hi, honey,” she said warmly. “Did you get back okay?”

“Does gran really hate me?” he asked in a small voice, not even attempting small talk. “Should I have tried more to not like men? Do you… do you wish I’d tried more?”

It was a much heavier conversation than his mother was prepared for, but she took it in stride. “It’s no to all of those,” she said firmly, putting down the book she had been reading and straightening up in her chair. “She doesn’t hate you, she’s just old fashioned and will take a few weeks to come around. Aidan, love, you shouldn’t try to be something you aren’t. You would never have been so happy if you hadn’t let yourself be who you are. What has gotten into you?”

Though he knew she couldn’t see him, Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know. It was a bad day,” he said, not wanting to go into all the details. “Thanks, Ma. I should get to bed.”

* * *

In the morning, when Dean got up, he had a text message from Aidan, from nearly one in the morning. _Come home for breakfast. I need to talk to you._

“I’m going back to my place,” the Kiwi told Luke. “Aidan’s got something to say, and I’m giving him the chance. I’m not exactly happy with him, but I couldn’t sleep when I thought about never seeing him again.”

“Good luck, man,” Luke said with a nod, happy to drive Dean over to his home when asked. He watched as the other man walked up the steps and then drove away, hoping everything worked out.

“It’s me,” Dean called out quietly when he went inside and headed toward the kitchen. “What’s up?”

Aidan shuffled out from behind the counter, looking down at his feet as he tried to remember his little pre-planned speech. “You were right. I had some stuff about my gran and I got mad when you wanted me to talk about it. I told Luke something that was never mine to tell. I know you can’t trust me like you did before, and I understand that. For as long as it takes, I will do everything I need to in order to earn that trust back. About the straight thing, though. Last night, I was pretty sure you’d never want to see my stupid face again. You know I’ve been back and forth about my sexuality, and… it hurt so much that I wished it hadn’t happened. It’s pretty dumb, really, because I love every memory with you, but the idea of losing you was so awful that I wished I hadn’t had you in the first place. So I thought about when I tried to be straight. And it’s stupid and I’m sorry it came out like that, I just couldn’t deal with the pain and--“

“Shh,” Dean whispered, putting two fingers over Aidan’s mouth to make him stop talking. “I know what you mean. I can’t hate you, even after you fucked it all up pretty royally.” He gave a pained attempt at a smile. “It’s like in _Brokeback Mountain_ , you know? I just can’t quit you.” He sighed and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. “Earning back trust isn’t easy, Aidan. There’s not a checklist or any set of things to do. It’s going to take time, and patience from us both. Let’s go back to the beginning a bit, yeah? We can’t just pretend everything is like it was before, because it isn’t. I’m going to sleep in the second bedroom, and it’s going to be a bit more like dating. I’m not breaking up with you or anything, but I need a bit of space, babe. I’m hurt and frustrated and don’t feel particularly like sharing a bed. That seizure was horrible. I can’t explain how scary and embarrassed and vulnerable I felt, and you said it like it was nothing. Like it was a punch line. That ripped my fucking heart out, you know? So space. I’m happy to be kissed in the morning and hold your hand, but I’m initiating any sex or sleeping in the same bed. Got it?”

Aidan nodded. It wasn’t perfect, but he had expected worse. Things might be awkward and uncomfortable, but they hadn’t split. Maybe it would do them some good, taking it a bit slow again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So probably less porn for a bit. BUT cute dates as Aidan tried to earn back some trust, so that almost makes up for it. Almost. Maybe. I don't even know, honestly. Sorry, again.


	25. Patching Things Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Medical treatments and school have been taking up my time. Well, that and laziness :) I hope you like this!

Oddly enough, life settled back down after a giant, possibly relationship-ending fight. When he woke up the next morning, Aidan found Dean making breakfast, and was happy to receive a genuine smile when the older man saw him. “Good morning,” the brunet said quietly, kissing Dean’s cheek gently before moving around him to get some coffee. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered, buttering some toast. After making up the previous day, they had gone to the grocery store, because they’d had literally nothing in their kitchen. “You?” he asked, setting the plate of toast at Aidan’s place at the table before going back to making his own.

“Good,” Aidan said, smiling. It wasn’t quite true; after a year, he was used to sleeping with Dean beside him almost every night. One night wouldn’t have been a big deal, except he knew that it was going to go on for a while. If he hadn’t fucked up… he pushed away that train of thought. What was done was done, and now he just had to suck it up and move on, making amends along the way. “I can’t believe we start filming tomorrow,” he said, groaning at the thought. “I’m happy to be working again and seeing our friends and whatever, but we have to get up so early.”

Dean snorted. “You get to go in later than the rest of us, you know,” he pointed out, bringing his own toast and coffee to the table and sitting down next to his boyfriend. “We’ve all been there for a while before you come stumbling in.” He took a bite of his toast before continuing. “I’m betting everyone will want to go out for drinks after we wrap for the day. Do you think you’ll want to do that?” he asked. After Aidan having a minor breakdown involving two other cast members, he wasn’t sure how comfortable the younger man would be around them.

Though he knew he would feel awkward, especially around Graham and Luke, Aidan nodded. After all, he had missed his friends, and it would be even more awkward if he didn’t show. He didn’t want people to start asking questions about why he wasn’t joining in. “Yeah, it should be fun,” he answered. “Drinking with the guys is great. Do you think you’re going to drink much, after…” he trailed off. It probably wasn’t his place to talk about that, but Dean’s safety was more important than how much he might seem like a dick.

“Nah, I’m playing it safe,” Dean replied, not caring that Aidan had brought it up; it was a legitimate concern. “I’ll probably have a beer or two, but nothing beyond that. That could have been a coincidence, with the alcohol, but I’m not risking it.” He finished up his breakfast and rinsed off his plate before sticking it in the dishwasher. “I’ll be your designated non-driver,” he added with a bit of a grin. “Can’t drive you anywhere, but can stop you from making bad life decisions.”

Aidan grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve made a few of those recently.”

“You have,” Dean agreed, “but we’re moving past them.” He smiled a little at the younger man, watching as he too put away his breakfast dishes. “Okay, that was the extent of my jet lagged morning energy,” the blond admitted. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Fuck yes,” Aidan responded, relieved that they didn’t have to do anything more if they didn’t want to. He dug out a DVD and popped it into the player before snuggling up on the couch, letting Dean join him at whatever distance he wanted to. The older man settled next to him and leaned on his shoulder. It wasn’t the same as what they would have done before, when they would have been spooning together on their sides, but it was something. After the previous day, Aidan felt like he was lucky to have anything at all.

Though he meant to stay up through the entire movie, and hopefully the entire day, Dean ended up snoring within an hour, head resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He couldn’t help how exhausted he was, between jetlag and a hellish emotional rollercoaster. When he woke up, he was alone on the couch, with a blanket tucked in around him, and Aidan was sitting on the ground, playing _Katamari_. “How long was I out?” he asked tiredly.

Aidan paused the game and twisted around to look at Dean. “About three hours,” he answered. “I know you want to stay up, but you’ve looked so tired for the past week that I couldn’t make myself actually wake you up. Want to play?” he offered, holding out the controller. “You can finish this level if you want. I’ve got the Katamari big enough to roll up people. You love when you can do that.”

Dean groaned as he sat up, his tired body protesting the movements, and he took the controller from the younger man. “Thanks, babe,” he mumbled, resuming play and letting himself wake up to the tune of the little song and the joy of rolling people into his giant ball of stuff. “Do you have anything you need to do today?” he asked Aidan after a minute.

The Irishman settled on the couch next to his boyfriend, focusing most of his attention on Dean but still watching the screen. “No, I think I’m fine. If you need to go out, though, I’ve got time to drive around with you.”

“I was just thinking we could go out for dinner,” Dean said casually. “You know, a date. Not like our other ones, you know, where it was a meal and some sex. A proper date. That could be fun, right?” he asked hesitantly. “God, I don’t even remember how to do this shit.” He sighed. “I’m making it more awkward, aren’t I?” he asked. “I could just say that we should go out to dinner but now I have to make it sound important, and, we’ve been on dates before, so why is this so weird for me to say?”

Aidan smiled a little. “Dinner sounds good,” he answered. “Don’t freak out so much, Deano. Things are going to be a bit awkward for us for a little while, but it’s okay. We’ll go to dinner, come back and hold hands over a glass of wine, and then I’ll walk you to your bedroom door to kiss you goodnight.” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s temple. “Like that, see?”

With a laugh, Dean shook his head. “I might not be sleeping with you right now, but that is _not_ where I want my goodnight kiss,” he teased gently, putting the controller down as he finished the level. “Kisses are anybody’s game. It’s like when we started dating. Sleeping together is where I need to be the one initiating it, okay? Kiss me all you want, Aidan.”

“You shouldn’t say that, you know. I might take you up on it.”

* * *

They ended up in the back of a simple and nice restaurant. It had burgers and pizza, but fancy ones with different cheeses and toppings. Aidan drank beer while Dean stuck to water, but they shared a pizza with salami and arugula. “You know what we should do next weekend?” Dean asked as they finished up their meal.

“What?”

“We stay home and make cookies,” the older man answered, smiling. “It’s winter and fucking cold, so we should stay inside all day and make cookies and tea.”

Aidan raised his eyebrows, but he was smiling as well. “That is about the most wholesome thing I have ever heard. At home, we’d always put up the Christmas decorations while we made cookies. I guess there isn’t really a holiday for wintertime cookies here, is there?”

“Nope. We’ll just have to make and eat a bunch of cookies for no reason,” the smaller man answered cheerfully. “See, I’m fucking great at dates. Pizza, cookies… probably other stuff too, once I think of it.” He shrugged. “Okay, not so great at dates. I thought of two, but I guess that’s it.”

“I’ll pick up the slack,” Aidan promised after taking his last sip of beer. “Just because I’m not some cool hotshot photographer doesn’t mean I can’t come up with creative dates, you know,” he added, handing his card to the waiter to pay their bill. When Dean raised an eyebrow, he smirked. “I’m the manly man at this table, I buy the food,” he said in as deep a voice as he could muster.

Dean snorted loudly, and then quieted down as some people glanced towards them. “I thought I would be paying, since it was my idea,” he said. “I’ll grab it next time.”

After the waiter returned and Aidan signed the receipt, they stood up and went to the car. Once on the road, Aidan looked over at his boyfriend. “Can I ask something that I think I shouldn’t?” he asked hesitantly. “You can always not answer it.”

Curious, now, Dean nodded. “Go ahead.”

“You said I can’t understand how terrifying and everything that seizure was. The, uh, the sex one. I know I can’t really understand it, not fully, but I want to try.” He stared straight ahead at the road, not wanting to see Dean’s expression if the other man was angry. “What was it like?”

Dean sighed quietly. It wasn’t a question he had expected to hear, but he didn’t mind it. As much as he didn’t like to talk about it, maybe it would help Aidan if he could even slightly understand his experience. “Okay,” he said softly, glad that the younger man was still just looking at the road and not at him. “It’s… seizures make me feel a lot of things. One thing I feel at the end of every single one is that I’m like a child. I have no control over it, I pee, and I just feel like a goddamn child. I held off on having sex for a long time because of my seizures, so that was literally one of my worst nightmares coming true. I had this horrible clash of sex, which is an adult thing, which is something I choose and control, and seizures, which I have no control over and I feel like a kid. No matter what you say or how you want to feel, you see me differently. I have to live knowing that if we break up, I’m going to be that guy who had a seizure during sex, and if we stay together, one of the clearest memories you have of me in bed is me having a seizure under you.” He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling as he tried not to let any tears make it out of his eyes. “I thought you had maybe understood, but you told Luke. You told him like it was a little aside, almost a funny secret. My worst nightmare coming true was a weird story to tell your friends.”

By that point, they were in the driveway. Aidan turned off the car, but didn’t make a move to get out of it. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, even though he knew that no amount of apologies could fix this. “I lashed out with the only thing I knew you couldn’t brush off to turn back to me, and I didn’t think about how much it meant to you. It wasn’t a punch line, but that doesn’t mean I did anything better than what you thought.”

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “Pretty much.” He sat up straighter, swallowing audibly before unbuckling his seatbelt. “Come on, let’s go inside. You promised wine and handholding. I could do with some handholding right about now.”

Within five minutes, they were on the couch, hands intertwined. Each had a glass of wine in his free hand, and they drank mostly in silence, occasionally talking softly about scheduling and plans. By nine o’clock, though, both of them were so tired that they knew they would fall asleep on the couch if they didn’t move. Dean washed the glasses, and then, as he had promised, Aidan took his hand and walked with him upstairs to what had been, until the day before, the spare room.

“Goodnight,” the younger man said quietly, leaning down and brushing his lips against Dean’s almost shyly.

Dean smiled. “You listened and tried to understand. You get a better kiss than that,” he told his boyfriend, pulling Aidan toward him by the collar of his shirt and giving him a lingering kiss. “I’ll see you on set tomorrow, yeah?

“Yeah.”

* * *

Set, it turned out, was far more awkward than home. At home, the only awkwardness was the difference in their relationship. On set, it was that difference, but also hiding it. Their friends, while well meaning, were nosy by nature, and they didn’t want any questions. They could lie if asked, of course, but that would bring in more questions and worries when all they needed was space. So, when he got on set later than everyone else, Aidan immediately wandered over to Dean and propped his head on his shoulder.

“You boys didn’t get tired of each other after six weeks?” Jimmy teased loudly, and Aidan just rolled his eyes. “And how did you like Ireland, Dean?” he added more seriously.

“It was nice,” Dean answered honestly. “Turns out I’m not one for camping, but it was good. His mum makes a lot of food, so I think I ate twice as much as usual there.” He smiled at the older Irishman. “Glad I’m back, though. I get a little crazy without work.”

James nodded, knowing that feeling. He had gone a little stir-crazy himself while traveling around with his family. “We’re getting drinks tonight, if you two want to come. We’ll head out after we all get back into normal clothes. Sound good?”

Both of the younger men nodded, and James went on his way. Dean leaned his head against Aidan’s briefly. “Can you stay kind of sober too?” he asked softly. “I just… I don’t want to bring it up again, but…”

“I know,” Aidan interrupted. “I told someone sober, and you don’t want to find out if I’d do it drunk. I’ll only drink a little. We can be like one of those old couples, who go out for a bit and then go home to knitting. Or making out and video games, in our case.” He flashed his boyfriend a cheeky grin. “We’ll make it fun, Dean. Honestly, that whole thing freaked me out about drinking a lot too. Tonight’s just going to be a beer and spending some time with the guys.”

A few feet away, Aidan noticed Graham looking at them closely, and made a mental note to explain things to the older man later. He was pretty sure that it would be more than a little rude to go to someone’s home, cry about your relationship, and then not tell them how things worked out. He sighed and straightened up when Peter started calling out to everyone. It was time for work to start up again.

* * *

The bar wasn’t that loud and crowded overall, but the corner filled with the cast certainly was, and it was driving Dean a bit mad. He was sat in the large, circular booth that they had claimed, along with a fair amount of his friends, and was leaning into Aidan tiredly. A full day of shooting while still recovering from jet lag was not ideal, and he was feeling the consequences.

“Why aren’t you two drinking?” Adam asked loudly, having had a few drinks in the relatively short time they had been there. He didn’t notice a minor wince from Luke beside him, choosing to stare at Dean and Aidan as they sat with their glasses of rum-less Coke.

Thinking quickly, Aidan answered, “I may have thrown up on Dean over break after a wild night out. We’re still a little emotionally scarred.” He grinned when Adam made a face. “If you can’t handle the truth, don’t ask,” he teased, taking another sip of his drink as Dean kissed his cheek fondly.

Graham, from his seat next to Dean, leaned in close to whisper to the New Zealander. “Aidan came to me after the… debacle. Are things okay between you two?” he asked, making sure his voice was low enough that nobody else stood a chance of overhearing.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, just as quietly. “We’re taking a step back, working on trust, but we’ll sort it out. I love that stupid Irish prick.” He sighed. “Sorry for inflicting our drama on you,” he added. “That can’t have been fun.”

The older man shrugged. “Part of friendship is dealing with the bad along with the good,” he said pragmatically before straightening up. “I’m exhausted,” he announced loudly. “I don’t care what you young folks do, but I’m heading home to get some sleep.”

His statement was all it took for others to realize their own tiredness, and the fact that they had to work again the next day, and people began to leave slowly, in small groups and pairs going to houses and flats near each other. At the back of the group were Dean and Aidan, walking just close enough for their shoulders to brush together. They split a cab with Adam and appeased his tipsy need for asinine conversation. By the time they got back to their house, they were happy to be home and, possibly more importantly, alone.

“Thanks for staying sober for me,” Dean said quietly as he leaned into Aidan in a loose, lazy embrace. “I know it sucks with everyone there and people asking, but I--“

Aidan shushed him, stroking fingers through his hair. “You had every right to be worried, and every right to ask me not to drink,” he said softly. “It didn’t suck, anyway. It just reminded me that being sober around drunk people isn’t my favorite thing.” He smiled. “I’m glad I didn’t drink, really, since I wouldn’t want you to have to put up with drunk me while you’re sober.”

Dean grinned, tilting his head up to kiss Aidan’s soft lips gently. “You can be a handful,” he agreed, moving a little away from the younger man and grabbing his hand to drag him upstairs. “I love you,” he said quietly as they stood outside the door to his bedroom. “I’m sure it’s hard to believe with all the separation and whatever, but I love you.”

“I love you too,” Aidan replied sincerely. “It’s probably even harder for you to believe that, since I was a total asshole a couple days ago, but I do. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

The Kiwi snorted. “On set,” he said, smirking. “You’re never up early enough to see me before I leave.” He stretched his neck up and gave Aidan another kiss, this one just a little longer than the one downstairs had been. “You know, tomorrow night we should be free. Movie and make outs?” he suggested cheekily.


	26. Hugo Appears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I was reminded that Hugo Weaving hadn't shown up to do the advice/empathy thing and I realized I had sort of forgotten Elrond being in the Hobbit movies. Whoops. So here he is! With some angst but really nothing can be as angsty as when they nearly broke up so whatever.
> 
> 2\. Sorry I never update. I moved back to school and then had surgery which slowed me down a lot. Hope you like this chapter and it was at least kind of worth the wait!

The week before Hugo Weaving arrived in New Zealand for filming, Dean made sure that it got out that he didn’t want his epilepsy to be mentioned to the other man. He was not going to have some sort of epileptic bonding moment, and he was already unhappy with the number of people discussing it. Aidan had tried to convince him that it might help to talk to someone with similar experiences, right down to the age of onset, but the Kiwi held his ground and was adamant in his stance: nobody was going to say a fucking word about his seizures to Elrond.

Fate, it turned out, was out to get Dean.

Filming Rivendell was pretty cool, Dean had to admit. The set was beautiful, and he could understand how it would translate onto the screen like it did in the original trilogy of films. As a photographer and artist, he was a fan of the architecture and the costumes, all creating a specific ambience about the elves. He was hanging out, watching people wander around, when Aidan popped out of nowhere to rest his chin on his shoulder. “Hi,” Dean said quietly.

“Hi!” Aidan replied brightly, far more awake than anyone else in the studio. From a few feet away, Hugo glanced over; Aidan’s cheerful voice carried in the room as they waited between takes.

Dean hadn’t been avoiding Hugo, not really, but he still felt a little weird being so close. By all rights, he should feel _more_ comfortable around someone else with epilepsy, but instead he just felt weird. If Hugo caught wind of it, he might want to talk and have a heart-to-heart, and Dean would do as much as he could to avoid that. He was going to start a conversation with Aidan to take his mind off of his internal awkwardness when Fate, cruel mistress that she was, played her joker. “I’m going to be sick,” Dean said, grabbing Aidan’s arm for a semblance of balance. “Fuck, Aid, I need to sit, I…” He struggled for words, but didn’t manage to find any before his eyes rolled back and his body convulsed violently, sending himself and Aidan falling backwards.

Within two seconds, Hugo was by their sides. When Aidan looked up, his back throbbing in pain from hitting the floor, he felt a little confused, since the older man was in full Elrond costume. “He’s fine,” the Irishman assured him, grimacing in pain as Dean’s elbow jammed into his stomach. “It’ll be over fast. Always is.”

“Can you get out from under him?” Hugo asked, all business. He was a little surprised by the turn of events, but he knew the drill, even if he was usually the one on the ground. When Aidan shook his head, he nodded to show he understood. “Right. How long do these usually last?”

Grunting in mild pain--Dean wasn’t jabbing into Aidan anywhere, but a full-grown convulsing man was heavy and uncomfortable--the younger man answered, “Mostly under a minute. Some more like two.”

As if on cue, Dean’s body gave a few more strong twitches before relaxing, allowing Aidan to slip out from under him, wincing a little as he did so. The Irishman pulled off his coat and made a pillow that he slipped under Dean’s head. Looking around, he was glad to notice that most people weren’t staring; whether purposefully or out of not noticing, he didn’t care. He sat down on the ground and pet through his boyfriend’s hair, chewing at his lip.

Hugo sat down next to him. “Epilepsy?” he asked softly, receiving a nod in reply. “If that happens a lot, it’s no wonder he looks so exhausted.” He shrugged when the younger man looked at him curiously. “The guy’s got bags under his eyes and is pretty sluggish when we aren’t shooting.” He smiled, but it was mostly humorless. “Is that why he’s been avoiding me? He didn’t want to talk about seizures?”

Aidan sighed. “He’s having a hard time, and he was worried if you heard about it, you’d want some sort of deep talk about feelings or something. Which, I mean, he could use, judging by the times he’s told me I’ll never understand, but apparently he’s too proud or too shy or _something_ to do that.”

“It’s hard,” Hugo said simply. “He doesn’t want everyone to know, so he’s exercising the control he has by not telling me. I’ve done it before, so I know. I’ll buy him a drink and talk to him a bit about that, but then we can just hang out. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.” He looked down at Dean, shaking the younger man’s shoulder gently. “Are you up?” he asked softly. “Let us know when you want to move.”

A minute later, Dean let out a wordless groan as he opened his eyes. “Oh, fuck me,” he muttered as Hugo’s face came into focus after a couple quick blinks. “Great. Now we can be epilepsy best friends. Just what I wanted.”

“Did he even say anything about wanting to be epilepsy friends?” Aidan asked, rolling his eyes. “Stop whining and let’s get you somewhere comfortable. You guys can decide if you’re friends once you’ve changed clothes and had something to drink.” He crouched down and helped his boyfriend wrap an arm around his shoulders to get some stability and support for standing. “Can you let Peter know we’re ducking out for a few minutes? I think we’re almost done anyway, so he might let us go early. And maybe bring some tea?” he added to Hugo, seeing Dean’s vaguely nauseated expression.

After a few slow steps, Dean got into a rhythm of walking while leaning on Aidan. “Do you promise I don’t have to have bonding moments with that guy?” he asked suspiciously, making the Irishman sigh.

“Dean, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Aidan began. “You’re an adult and you get to make your choices. If you don’t want to say another word to him, that’s your decision. But you tell me I don’t understand, and you’re right about that. You have someone here who _does_ understand, or at least understands a hell of a lot more than I do. Give him a chance, yeah? At least don’t completely avoid him, even if you don’t want to talk to him about seizures.”

“I hate it when you’re so reasonable,” Dean muttered, but he was clearly smiling, though the expression was still tinged by pain. The smile dropped when they had to shuffle up three steps to get into a trailer, but the older man was visibly relieved to flop onto the couch and lie down. “That one wasn’t so bad,” he commented tiredly, stretching his neck around a little. “My postictal crap isn’t nearly as bad as it is after the worst ones.”

Before Aidan could respond, there was a soft knock at the door, which then opened to reveal Hugo entering with a cup of tea. “Here, it’s mint,” he said, passing the mug to Dean. “Peter is doing a little bit with a couple of the dwarves, but most everyone, including us, is free to go. Makeup said we could just come over whenever to get cleaned up.”

“Thanks,” Dean said quietly, looking down at his cup of tea tiredly. “I, uh, may have been avoiding you for a few days? And I’m sorry,” he mumbled, still not looking up at the other man. “I’ve got some… complex feelings about, you know, things, and…” he trailed off, shrugging. “Whatever. Hi, I’m Dean, usually I don’t meet people like this.”

Hugo smiled a little, even though Dean wasn’t looking to see. “Well, I’m Hugo. I tend not to be one of the observers when there’s a seizure.” He paused. “That was awkward phrasing. I was going for a mild joke about having epilepsy, but it sounded weird.” He turned to Aidan. “From what I’ve heard around the catering tents, you’re Dean’s boyfriend,” he said, receiving a nod of acknowledgement in return. “Right, now that we’re all friends, why don’t we eat dinner together tonight?”

“All three of us?” Dean asked, confused. He had been getting himself all prepared to reject any invitation to hang out with Hugo one-on-one, but if Aidan was included… “Okay. Yeah. We can make dinner for you. Well,” he amended, “I can make dinner for you. Aidan’s a shit cook.”

“Yep!” Aidan said cheerfully, leaning on a counter and lazily stretching his arms. “I’m really good at calling for pizza, though. It’s a talent of mine.” He grinned widely at Dean. “I’m assuming that’s why you date me.”

Dean laughed, already feeling a little better. Between a relatively minor seizure, some tea, and a lack of pressure to be sudden best friends with Hugo, he was coming back to himself pretty quickly. “Let’s go over to makeup, yeah? I want to get out of costume and into something comfortable. What time is it?” he asked as he stood up, glad to find that he was steady on his feet without having to hold onto someone or something stable.

“Nearly five,” Aidan responded after glancing around for a clock. He had a nasty habit of forgetting to turn his phone to silent before filming, so he had taken to leaving it with his regular clothes and relying on other people for the time. “If we head over now, we can eat early enough to get a full night’s sleep for once.”

“I’ve been here two days and I already forget what actual sleep is like,” Hugo said wistfully as he followed the other men out of the trailer and over towards makeup.

* * *

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Dean said as he led Hugo into the kitchen, pointing at the appliance in question as he started hunting in the cabinets for dried pasta and a few spices. “Spaghetti and meatballs okay with you?” he added, glad when he got an affirmative answer. He was too tired to figure anything else out. “Cool.” He filled a pot with water and set it on the back burner of the stove to start heating up before getting out a can of premade tomato sauce--look, he was busy and it didn’t make a difference--and a package of ground beef from the refrigerator.

Aidan put the book he had taken to set down on the counter and kissed Dean’s cheek. “I’m going to take a shower, okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said quietly.

As much as he wanted to protest, fearing the possible Talk, Dean just nodded. Not only did he not want to be an ass about this with Hugo, but also Aidan had looked pretty gross when changing. While Dean and Hugo could make it through dinner before needing to shower, the youngest of the group would be pretty disgusting to sit next to at that point. “He wears the least makeup and still manages to get the grossest,” Dean commented as Aidan disappeared up the stairs of their narrow house.

“He’s always running around, even when you aren’t filming. I’m not surprised he smells by the end of the day,” Hugo said blandly. “How do you ride back with him every day, though? Just this once was bad enough for me.”

Dean laughed quietly. “You get used to it. Even before we dated, I got him to drive me most places. He was my best friend, and the only person besides Peter and the medical staff who knew I had epilepsy, so he was always up to drive me. And cars are nice places to flirt,” he added, shrugging away the mention of epilepsy.

“I bummed around a few people for rides when we did the original trilogy,” Hugo responded, “but I never dated any of them. Lucky you, I guess.”

“Yeah,” the Kiwi responded, mixing some spices into the meat before starting to form meatballs. “Lucky me. He’s a good guy.” He grimaced. “We almost broke up a couple weeks ago, but he’s still a good guy. An exhausted and frustrated minor fuck up doesn’t take that away, you know? He’s put up with a lot from me.”

Hugo looked at the younger man closely. “You don’t mean seizures, right?” he asked softly. “Those aren’t something to put up with. You deserve more than a guy who puts up with them.”

“He puts up with the emotional fall-out from bad ones,” Dean explained. “I can get pretty upset after them, and he takes it in stride.” He paused. “Well, fuck it, I guess we’re becoming the epileptic best friend club after all. Aidan genuinely moves past anything gross about seizures, and is the more levelheaded one about it. If I’m sobbing about pissing on the floor, he just curls up with me. I had a seizure during sex once and he wasn’t mad. He didn’t even seem disgusted, he just held me and took me into the shower and told me everything would be okay. That shows some good fucking character.” He shrugged. “He accidentally told Luke about that while we were jetlagged and I was trying to make him talk about something really upsetting, but I honestly think that was a one-time problem. If it hadn’t been about a seizure, it could have been about some other private detail. We work through shit, you know?”

“I’m impressed you’re getting through that,” Hugo said honestly, taking a sip of his beer before continuing. “Guess he must be pretty amazing for you to go on.”

“Actually, Dean’s good at understanding and giving another chance,” came a quiet voice from near the stairs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come into the conversation, but I just came downstairs and heard it.” Aidan padded across the kitchen in bare feet, damp curls dripping onto his long-sleeve shirt and creating a wet patch in the back, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “I’m sort of the worst,” he added conversationally.

Dean turned away from his meatballs, suddenly worried that he had been overstepping an invisible boundary by telling all of that to Hugo. “Aidan, I didn’t mean to tell--“

“Babe, this isn’t like when I told Luke. I’m okay with this, because if anyone on this set can understand what that would have been like for you, it’s him. What would be the point of getting advice or just empathy from someone if you couldn’t say the most upsetting part?” Aidan’s tone was sincere and comforting as he kissed Dean’s temple before sitting down. “I had a bad experience coming out to my gran,” he explained to Hugo simply, looking the older man straight in the eye and refusing to feel any self-pity. “I kept saying I didn’t care at all, but I did, and anyone could see it. When we went to hang out with Luke, they both wanted me to talk about it. I’d texted Luke about it, so he already knew I was less than happy. I got mad that they tried to make me talk, and I ended up blurting out that Dean had seized during sex. Then I cried to someone about wanting to be straight which does not help when you’re attempting not to lose your boyfriend.” He took a long pull from his bottle of beer. “The next day, we talked, and decided to go back to square one of our relationship. That’s the whole thing.” He stopped. “Oh man, that felt really good to get out. I should start telling that story to myself in the shower just for the catharsis.”

“That would be really weird,” Hugo said honestly. “You two should get an award for giving this a second try. Even if everything was sunshine and daisies before, that is a hard one to get past.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t think I would have tried with anyone else. Hear that, Aid? You’re one special fucker.”

Aidan smiled. “Only to you.”


	27. Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible at updating. Sorry

“It’s okay I told Hugo about the fight, right?” Dean asked quietly as he and Aidan sat on the couch after the Australian actor had left. “I mean, I felt like it was different from you telling Luke about the seizure, but if you’re uncomfortable, I’m really sorry…”

Aidan shook his head. “I told you to open up to him when I was encouraging you to be friendly with him. I meant that part too. Other people can talk to close friends about fights, but it was so tied in with seizures for you that nobody else could really understand. When I told you to talk to him about anything, I meant it. Don’t feel weird about it, yeah? All I want is for you to feel comfortable and like you have someone who understands you.”

Dean smiled and leaned against his boyfriend. “That takes a lot of trust and openness,” he said softly, one hand trailing over Aidan’s strong thigh. “And, you know, that sort of trust helps me trust you too. I…” He blushed, suddenly feeling anxious. “How about I come back in the bedroom tonight, yeah? See where that leads and all.”

Trying not to burst with excitement, Aidan smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, that would be nice. Just falling asleep with you is great.” He kissed Dean’s temple gently, one hand rubbing up and down the older man’s arm. “I’ve missed this, you know? The… casual intimacy or whatever you want to call it.”

“You miss curling up with me more than you miss sex?”

The younger man shrugged, blush creeping up his ears. “Yeah. So?”

Dean shook his head. “So, I love you. That’s all,” he said softly, leaning closer into Aidan and nuzzling into his neck a little. “You miss _me_ , and that means a lot, yeah? You care about all of me, not just fucking.”

“Of course I do,” Aidan said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Sex is great and all, but I love you for a hell of a lot more than your ass.” He pulled the older man a little closer to him, sighing happily. “Dean, you know that I love all of you, right?” he asked after a moment. “The only reason I care about your seizures is because I want you to be safe and pain free. I feel like everyone expects me to want someone who doesn’t have epilepsy, and maybe you think that too, but I don’t want anybody but you.”

With a smile, Dean kissed Aidan’s neck. “Yeah, I know,” he said, grinning. “I can be awful sometimes, and if you didn’t love me so much, you wouldn’t put up with it.” He shifted his position to lean against his boyfriend more comfortably, his head falling back against the back of the couch. “We should go to bed,” he announced, making no move to get up. “Some of us have to wake up early as fuck.”

Aidan snorted. “We both have to wake up early as fuck,” he pointed out, dragging Dean up with him as he stood. “You just wake up a bit earlier. Come on, let’s go. You haven’t had a chance to sleep off that seizure yet.” Though the older man was slow to move, the brunet managed to steer them up the stairs and into the main bedroom, letting Dean fall onto the bed lazily while he started getting undressed. “You need to get out of those jeans, you know,” he said after pulling off his shirt and seeing that his boyfriend was still fully clothed. Once he was down to his boxers, he sat next to the blond and prodded him into getting undressed.

“Sorry, I’m completely crashing,” Dean said, exhaustion clear in his voice as he toed off his shoes slowly. “I used up all my energy being friendly with Hugo. I have no more spoons.”

“Spoons?” Aidan asked, perplexed. In their year together, he hadn’t heard this term, outside of the regular use of the word as an eating implement.

Dean looked at Aidan curiously. “You haven’t heard of spoon theory?” he asked. “Yeah, I guess it’s just a disabled thing. Basically, this girl with a disability explained it to her friend using spoons. You take a bunch of spoons, and those are your energy for the day. Every time you do something, you take a spoon away. For a lot of disabilities, there are only so many spoons, you know? Like, for me, most of the time, I’m fine. If everyone has spoons, I start out the same way as people without disabilities, and don’t use as many spoons for everyday tasks as someone with, like, chronic illness or whatever. But if I have a seizure, it takes a ton of spoons, and I only have a few left. Usually I’d fall asleep after, or just sit around while you make dinner, but we had Hugo over, so I used all my spoons, and didn’t have a chance to get more.”

Aidan nodded slowly, processing. “So spoons are units of energy, and you’re out?” he summarized, making sure he understood. “Then let’s go the fuck to sleep so you have enough to survive tomorrow,” he said bluntly, getting up to brush his teeth. He knew that Dean should get ready for bed more fully, that the older man should go to the bathroom and pee and brush his teeth and all of that, but when he got back to the bed and saw Dean asleep, he didn’t have the heart to wake him. Instead, he carefully worked the covers down from under his boyfriend’s body and put them over the blond before climbing into bed with him. He pulled Dean into his arms slowly and stroked up and down the older man’s back, so happy and relieved to be sharing a bed once more. He fell asleep faster and slept better than he had in the past few weeks, just happy his relationship was on the mend.

* * *

“We,” Aidan began loudly and dramatically on Saturday morning, “have been together for a year now. We’ve been through a lot of crap, but we’re together. I’m taking you out,” he finished, nodding decisively as Dean looked up from his magazine.

“Okay,” Dean said simply, baiting his boyfriend by appearing uninterested. When the younger man pouted, he grinned and stood to kiss him. “That sounds great, babe. Where are we going?”

Aidan shrugged. “I’m still working on that part. I’ve got, like, nine hours to decide. Cut me some slack. I’m a great boyfriend. I can do this.” He fell silent, starting to think about where they should go. There were so many options, from a nice restaurant to a club, with a million ideas in between. He tossed out the idea of a fancy restaurant almost immediately; they simply weren’t the fancy sort of people. Dressing up for premieres was one thing, but doing it for dinner would just be annoying. They could get a nice meal in a more casual but good restaurant, or they could do something different. Not all dates had to be getting dinner, after all. A few seconds later, he grinned. “Do you mind if we stay home instead?” he asked his boyfriend eagerly.

“Not really,” Dean answered honestly as he sat back down. “As long as we do something together other than just watching a movie like usual, I’m sold.” He smiled, looking up at Aidan and wondering what the younger man was thinking of. “It’s kind of nice being home, really. We can be affectionate and not have to worry about people seeing us. I like the idea of it, really. Also I don’t have to dress up, which appeals to my laziness.”

“I was thinking of ordering some nice takeout and curling around you with some wine, and then baking cookies together. We talked about that, remember? I still think it’s a good idea.”

Dean beamed. “That’s so cute,” he said, tugging Aidan down to sit next to him on the couch. “This goes with the whole domestic thing we’ve had going lately, you know? We have dinner parties and cook and clean, and now we’re making cookies as a big date.” He kissed the younger man on the tip of his nose. “Can we make a bunch of different cookies and take them to set on Monday to share with everyone? People would really like something homemade. If we make enough, we can just put them by the coffee for the cast and crew.” He liked the idea of giving his friends and even coworkers he barely knew something. It felt like an adult relationship sort of thing, like his mum might do.

“Yeah, we can,” Aidan answered, glad Dean seemed as into the idea as he was. “I’ll look up some recipes online and we can head to the grocery store. We can bake all afternoon if you want, and relax with takeout and all that after we finish up. It’ll be domestic all day and then romantic at night. Sounds good, right? I mean, that’s our relationship, right? Domestic and romantic, back and forth. Plus, giving cookies to people on set is great.”

With a nod, Dean put away his magazine and pulled out his phone, typing in a search for cookie recipes, not positive which kind he wanted. All of them had some ingredients in common: flour, sugar, eggs, and butter. It was easy to get a feel for what they needed; they could pick up large amounts of the common ingredients, and smaller amounts of more specific things, like peanut butter, chocolate chips, and oatmeal.

After a little under an hour reading through recipes and making a list of what they needed to buy, the two men headed out to the car. Once there, they picked up a bunch of flour, sugar, eggs, and butter, as well as the more specialized things--other ingredients and some cookie cutters that Aidan prodded Dean into approving. Somehow, they ended up with multiple bags of ingredients that they took home. Before starting anything, even preheating the oven, they printed out a few of the recipes so that they wouldn’t get cookie dough on their phone screens trying to scroll through directions.

They spent over four hours making cookies, grinning like fools the whole time as they mixed up dough, formed balls, and baked, teasing each other with dough on each other’s faces to lick off. After the last batch came out of the oven, making their total literally hundreds of different cookies, the two men collapsed onto the couch, glad they had finished cleaning up while the cookies had been in the over. “I think it’s time to order dinner,” Dean said thoughtfully, realizing that they had mostly eaten cookie dough instead of any real lunch. It was early for dinner, but they were hungry enough that it didn’t matter.

“Yeah,” Aidan agreed, pulling out his phone. “Wait, let me get menus,” he said after a moment, dragging himself to the kitchen to grab a small stack of menus off of the counter. Despite being actual grown-ups who cooked and everything, they tended to order after work when they didn’t eat on set. Weekends were the time for cooking, except, apparently, on their anniversary. He put the pile on Dean’s lap. “I’m up for whatever you want.”

Dean glanced through the menus. “Is Thai okay?” he asked, getting a nod from his boyfriend. He flipped the folded paper open and skimmed the list of food, making his decision relatively quickly. “I’m going to get Pad Thai and start with some chicken satay,” he told the younger man, handing over the menu. “What about you?”

“I’ll share the satay and get panang curry,” Aidan answered, not even looking at the menu before making his choice. “You do the calling,” he added in a cajoling voice. “I don’t feel like talking to people who aren’t super sexy blond New Zealanders.”

“You never know who’s going to answer the phone,” the older man replied, grinning widely, but he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the number on the front of the menu to place their order. After hanging up, he flashed a smile at the Irishman. “Cute accent, definitely a Kiwi. Couldn’t tell if she was a blonde, though,” he teased, kissing Aidan on the nose before standing to put the menus away. “The whole house smells amazing,” he said as he wandered back to the couch, sitting next to his boyfriend and curling up against Aidan’s shoulder, a hand drifting to his thigh to rub gently.

Aidan smiled and kissed Dean’s hair, feeling a little warm as his boyfriend cuddled up close to him and touched him, even just casually. “You are gorgeous,” he commented softly, resting his hand on top of Dean’s.

“Right back at you,” Dean mumbled, his words a little muffled by how his face rested against the younger man. “I feel so sticky and gross,” he added after a moment, sitting up and rubbing futilely at his hands as his boyfriend began to do the same. “I think the dough went through the skin and will be there forever.” He glanced over at Aidan, a blush sneaking over his face. “We could shower after dinner to get the sticky stuff off.”

Not looking up from trying to deal with his own frustratingly still-dirty hands, Aidan answered off-handedly, “You have time now. I’ll keep the food warm if it comes before you’re out.”

Dean sighed loudly. “Really? You didn’t catch the ‘we’ part of that sentence? After dinner, you and I should get in the shower, at the same time.”

“Oh,” Aidan said slowly, looking up and smiling widely. “Okay, yeah, I get it now. This is a really, really good idea. It might be the best idea you’ve ever had. I mean, if you’re down for it, I’ll drag you out of the shower and get you all dirty again, but we can always shower more later.”

“Not planning on that in the shower?”

“I already nearly cracked my head doing that once, Dean. I’m not risking it again.”


	28. Anniversary Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a long time. On the plus side, hey look! Porn!

The ring of the doorbell nearly made Dean jump out of his skin. “Fuck,” he muttered against Aidan’s neck, groaning softly. “I forgot about the food. Can you get it?” he asked, pulling his head away from his boyfriend and giving him a hopeful, nearly pitiful look. “Thank you,” he sing-songed when the younger man got up with a sigh and headed to the door. “I love you,” he added, shifting on the couch to sit up and putting a hand to his neck, grinning as he ran his fingers over a spot that he knew was blossoming into a hickey.

“You look thoroughly debauched,” Aidan said as he walked into the room with a bag full of delicious-smelling food. “I’ve missed seeing you like this,” he added, setting the food down on the table and sliding onto the couch next to Dean to give him a kiss. “Okay, yeah, food,” he muttered, shaking his head a little to clear his thoughts, as he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to eat and ogle Dean without accidentally choking. He opened up the Styrofoam boxes and put the food in front of them, spaced well for sharing, and handed Dean a fork. “Eat up, babe.”

Dean dug in, the smell helping to remind him of just how little he had eaten all day. “This is a good anniversary,” he said happily after swallowing a large mouthful of noodles. “Other people do fancy meals and shit, but making cookies and eating delivery food, and then having sex is way better. I didn’t have to put on fancy clothes,” he added, clearly glad about that part.

“I’m glad you like it,” Aidan responded, feeling relieved that his unconventional date idea had worked. It would have been an especially bad time to fail, since it was their anniversary. He set one hand on Dean’s thigh as he used the other to hold a fork and eat. “Be sure to tell everyone you know that I’m a really creative and attractive boyfriend,” he added between bites, bumping his shoulder against the New Zealander’s.

“Will do,” Dean replied thickly, talking through a larger-than-necessary mouthful of chicken. “They’ll all know how great you are when we bring in a ton of cookies on Monday, anyway,” he pointed out. He took another bite, knowing that he was eating ridiculously quickly and probably unattractively, but he was starving and anxious to be done with dinner and in bed with his boyfriend.

Aidan didn’t comment on Dean’s eating, because he was shoving food into his mouth pretty quickly as well, and for the same reason. Within just five minutes, they were both done, with empty Styrofoam boxes in front of them. “We probably should have remembered to eat during the day,” the younger man commented as he looked down at the garbage on the table. “It was worth it for all the cookies, though,” he added, grinning and pulling Dean against him to kiss his cheek.

“Let’s clean this shit up,” the blond said, untangling himself from Aidan’s embrace as he stood and picked up their empty containers. “I’ll throw this away if you grab a bottle of wine and meet me upstairs,” he added, laughing softly when Aidan scrambled up from the couch to dash off to the kitchen. The New Zealander moved at a slower pace, and Aidan was already out of the kitchen. So he threw their garbage in the bin and headed up the stairs.

The Irishman was pouring wine into glasses when his boyfriend came into the room, and he finished up and handed one to the smaller man. “You look good,” he said softly, gently tapping his glass to Dean’s before taking a sip.

“You’ve got a purty mouth,” Dean replied teasingly in his best American redneck accent, and then leaned in and kissed Aidan gently. “Are you going to drag me into bed now?” he asked, drinking a little bit of wine. “We can have the wine after, you know.” He set his glass down and carefully pulled the other from between Aidan’s fingers and set it next to his.

When a shy grin, Aidan grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him into the bed, grunting a little when the blond landed on his chest. “That was a lot smoother in my imagination,” he muttered, laughing as he rolled them over so that he could straddle the older man and kiss him deeply.

“It always looks smooth when people fall in bed in porn,” Dean laughed breathlessly between kisses. He curled one hand into Aidan’s curly hair, nails scratching lightly across the younger man’s scalp, and ran the other down his boyfriend’s spine to rest in the curve of his back.

“Everything looks smoother in porn,” Aidan agreed, kissing his way down Dean’s neck slowly, gently rolling his hips. He smirked and bit down lightly when the blond gasped and started rising to meet him, rubbing their slowly hardening cocks together languidly through all the layers of their clothing. “Feel good?” he asked teasingly, waiting until Dean opened his mouth to reply before biting the older man’s left nipple through his t-shirt.

Whatever reply Dean had been about to say flew out the window as he hissed in pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned, head rolling to the side a little. “You’re fucking amazing, babe,” he muttered, tugging gently at Aidan’s curls. “I wouldn’t mind if you sped things up a bit, though,” he added when the younger man failed to keep going. “Like, you know, let’s get naked, and then maybe you could fuck me through the mattress.”

Aidan let go of the firm nub between his teeth and grinned. “I love when you get impatient,” he said happily, sliding his hands up under Dean’s t-shirt and starting to shove it up. “Take this off,” he told the blond, sitting back on his knees so that he could strip off his own shirt.

Immediately, Dean dragged off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. “God, you look good,” he groaned, pulling Aidan down back on top of him to kiss him deeply. Wanting to keep things moving along, he slid one hand down his boyfriend’s back and under his jeans and boxers, squeezing firmly. “So, you want to fuck me?” he asked as conversationally as he could while so turned on.

Aidan dropped his forehead onto Dean’s shoulder, panting. “Yeah, I really do,” he answered when he managed a full breath. “Okay, I’m going to stand up and we’re both going to get naked as fast as possible. Deal?” He pushed himself up and stood next to the bed, hastily unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, watching excitedly as Dean did the same. “Oh my God, please be naked all the time,” he groaned, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of every damn inch of his boyfriend’s sun-kissed, gorgeous skin.

“How about just at home?” Dean suggested with a bit of a laugh, running a hand down his own chest to palm at his erection as he waiting for Aidan to step out his jeans and boxers. “Come on,” he growled, moaning softly when the younger man knelt between his legs again and dragged his hand away so that he could roll their hips together.

Reaching over to the bedside table, Aidan grabbed the lube and, kissing Dean roughly, slicked up his fingers. Breaking as little contact as possible, he reached his hand down between his boyfriend’s legs and began to circle his entrance with a firm touch. He pulled away from Dean’s lips to kiss down his neck, biting a little just to hear some excited gasps. “Have you done this lately?” he asked breathlessly. “Like, to yourself?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Dean panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Aidan teased him, fingers circling and prodding but not pressing in.

Aidan shook his head, grinning widely. “I’m not gonna do it til you tell me,” he said in a singsong voice, biting down into Dean’s muscled shoulder. He liked the feeling of being the teasing, in-control one for once; usually, he was too embarrassed to talk like this. “Come on, Deano, do you want to get fucked or not?”

Dean groaned. “Yes, I want to get fucked, and no I haven’t done this lately,” he panted hurriedly. “I’ve been stressed and exhausted and dildos aren’t good enough when there’s a hot Irish guy down the hall.”

Immediately, Aidan pressed a finger into his boyfriend; as well as liking to tease, he had needed to know how fast he could go. The older man felt tighter than usual, and Aidan moaned softly in anticipation. “Babe…” he gasped, but he realized he had nothing to say. Instead of talking, he wiggled his finger inside Dean’s body and ground his own hips into the mattress for a bit of relief, trying not to moan too loudly. He didn’t need his boyfriend to know that he was slowly getting more and more aroused by rubbing his cock on their sheets.

“More,” Dean demanded after a few moments; while he was tight from a while without, he had enough experience to know what he could take. “I want to get _fucked_ , dammit. Foreplay is for wimps.”

Aidan snorted, though he pushed a second finger in along with the first. “You’re so romantic,” he teased, rolling his eyes a little. “I thought you liked foreplay.”

“Not when it’s been a while,” Dean muttered, thrusting his hips to ride Aidan’s fingers eagerly. “Too much foreplay and I’m going to shoot before you’re inside me and then we can’t have sex and I really, _really_ want to have sex tonight.” He arched a little as the younger man began to scissor his fingers. “Okay, yeah, do that, but more and faster.”

“Impatient little fuck,” Aidan muttered with a smile, kissing Dean’s jaw. “I love you, even if you are impatient,” he added, prying his fingers farther apart to get the blond truly stretched. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he added, tilting his head down to lick his boyfriend’s stiff nipples. “I’m so fuckin’ hot for you.”

Dean tugged on Aidan’s hair to get him off his chest. “Fuck me,” he groaned, looking the Irishman straight in the eye. “Now.” He rolled his hips down on his boyfriend’s fingers to emphasize his points. “I want it as hard as you can give it to me.”

“You sure?” Aidan asked, worried that Dean was getting ahead of himself, but the older man gave him a confident nod. “For fuck’s sake, you are too goddamn hot,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out and pumping a little extra lube onto his hand to slick himself up. “Tell me if it hurts.” He brace his dry hand next to Dean’s head and used his wet one to guide his aching erection to his boyfriend’s entrance. He bit his lip and thrust in slowly and steadily, dropping his forehead to Dean’s and making a strained noise in the back of throat.

Dean squirmed on the bed, a little uncomfortable but unwilling to stop. He loved the stretch and the sting, and there was something exciting about the pain of finally getting penetrated after a while without. “Shit,” he gasped, dragging his fingernails down Aidan’s back a little harder than he meant. “You like that?” he asked, a little surprised at the way the brunet shuddered at his touch. He grinned when Aidan gave a little shrug. “Come on, I could pretty much feel your dick jumping inside me,” he teased breathlessly.

“Felt good,” Aidan admitted, starting to rock slowly as he settled fully into Dean’s tight, squeezing body. “I missed that, ‘cause girls have longer nails and did that a lot and… do it some more,” he said hastily, realizing at the last second that it was probably a terrible idea to talk about former sexual partners mid-coitus. “God, you’re tight as fuck.”

With a smirk, Dean dragged his nails down Aidan’s back a little harder. “Come on, babe, fuck me hard,” he begged, gasping loudly when his boyfriend pulled out a little and thrust back in roughly, taking a few awkward moments to get an actual rhythm started. “Yeah, like that,” he added on a moan, arching his back and scratching Aidan again.

Aidan panted hard as he kept thrusting into Dean, using his free hand to drag the older man’s leg from around his waist to over his shoulder, crying out loudly as the new angle pushed him a little deeper. “Fuck,” he moaned, leaning down drop his head next to Dean’s. “I’m going get you off so goddamn hard,” he growled, biting his boyfriend’s shoulder a little harder than he usually would, delighting in the shudder and gasp that his bite elicited.

“Then fucking do it,” Dean hissed, arching hard as he met Aidan’s thrusts. “Harder, Aid!” he added, practically screamed as the younger man got his knees under him and began to thrust harder than he ever had before. “Fuck, yes, like that!” he cried, digging his fingernails into Aidan’s shoulders as he clung onto him, trying to keep himself from being slammed into the headboard.

Moaning loudly, Aidan reached between their bodies, straining to balance on his left hand as he wrapped the right around Dean’s dick and began to stroke roughly. “Come on, Dean,” he gasped, feeling his balls draw up but refusing to let himself come before his boyfriend. He shifted his shoulder to keep Dean’s leg over it and he thrust harder, ignoring how loudly bed was creaking. “I want you to come all over my fuckin’ hand now, babe, please.”

With a choked scream, Dean gave into the pleasure coursing through his body and came hard, shuddering under Aidan as the younger man fucked him through his orgasm. He bit his lip when he realized how loud he was being, but he continued to cry out as he continued to come, painted his stomach and Aidan’s hand with sticky fluid. “Oh my fucking _God_ ,” he groaned, squirming around again as the trusts started to be too much.

“You look so fuckin’ great when you… fuck,” Aidan groaned, letting go of his boyfriend’s waning erection as he thrust a few last times before coming, crying Dean’s name as he did so. “Fucking hell,” he whispered, collapsing onto the older man’s chest as they both gasped for breath. “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Best ever.” He lifted his head to kiss his boyfriend’s shoulder exhaustedly. “You were amazing,” he added as he flopped back bonelessly. “Do you know how hard it’s going to be not to brag about this to everyone on Monday?” he asked with a breathless chuckle.

Aidan grinned. “Go ahead and brag,” he told his boyfriend happily. “I bet you’ll still be walking funny anyway.”


	29. Another Day in the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most plot-filled chapter, but just a regular old day in the life, like most of us have. Any plot points people want? I'm happy to take suggestions :)

Dean, it turned out, was still walking with a hitch in his step come Monday. He groaned a little as he walked into the catering tent, but tried to hide his discomfort as he grabbed a plate and filled it up for breakfast. It was a little ridiculous that he had already got his costume and makeup on before going to get his food, and it was still earlier than he’d eaten before getting hired for the _Hobbit_. He carefully sank into a seat next to Richard, giving the older man a tired smile. “Hey,” he said on a yawn, giving a little wave to everyone else at the table. Most of the others waved back before returning to their quiet conversations.

“Morning,” Richard answered between bites of sausage, nodding over at Dean. “How was your weekend?”

“Really good,” Dean said with a wide grin. “Yours?” he added brightly.

Richard snorted. “Clearly nowhere near as good as yours,” he told the blond. “I’d say I want what you have, but I’m betting what you have involves your boyfriend, who seems lovely and all but not my type.” He smiled over at Dean. “I’m glad you had a good weekend. What did you do?”

The younger man swallowed his bite of waffle before answering. “Saturday was mine and Aid’s anniversary, and we made hundreds of cookies. Aidan will bring them when he comes to set, ‘cause there’s no way we can eat all of those by ourselves.” He had thought about bringing some of the cookies himself, but had barely managed to get dressed by the time Adam had picked him up. “Then we had some dinner, and, uh, yeah, it… it was good.”

“Please don’t tell me more,” Richard said, though he smiled. “I’ll eat some of those cookies, though. There aren’t gross bodily fluids on them, are there?” he asked suspiciously, laughing when Dean shook his head indignantly. “Then I’ll definitely eat some.”

“Did I hear cookies?” Cate asked as she came to the table and sat down next to Dean. “Please tell me I heard cookies. It’s early, I’m exhausted, and I really hope I heard cookies.”

Dean grinned. “Aidan and I made a ton cookies over the weekend. He’s going to bring them in to share.” He shoveled the last few bites of his breakfast into his mouth before standing up. “I’m going to get some coffee. Anybody else want some?” he asked, and when nobody took him up on the offer, he took his paper plate, threw it away, and went to grab some coffee, trying not to let his discomfort show in his steps.

By lunch break, though, it was getting harder to hide how much every step ached, and Dean practically fell into a chair next to Aidan. “I’m in pain,” he groaned softly into his boyfriend’s ear. “You’re an animal.”

“I know,” Aidan replied smirk, gently tapping his head against Dean’s. “Want me to grab you some food?” When his boyfriend nodded with a pathetic expression, the Irishman stood up and went through the buffet line with two plates.

“Someone’s whipped,” came a teasing voice, and Aidan turned to see Jed smirking at him.

“Shut up,” he muttered, but he smiled back. “I’m not whipped, I’m just a considerate man who gets my boyfriend lunch when he’s exhausted and sore.” He finished loading up his and Dean’s plates and took them over to the table, sliding one in front of the blond. “Maybe a hot shower will help you be less sore.”

Dean groaned, nodding. “That sounds amazing. I’ll do that as soon as we get home.” He picked up the fork that Aidan had put on top of his plate and began to eat hungrily. Breakfast felt like it had been an eternity away, though it had only been seven hours ago. “Hey, Jed,” he added through a mouthful of chicken salad sandwich as the older New Zealander sat down beside him.

“Did you go too hard on some of the action today?” he asked Dean, looking at him a little worriedly. “You’ve been limping for a few hours now,” he added in explanation, dipping some raw broccoli into some dressing and taking a bite.

“Nah, we haven’t done anything too hard today,” Dean answered, and then realized he needed some sort of excuse. “I think I pulled a muscle over the weekend. I should be good in a day or two.” He shrugged it off so that Jed wouldn’t ask more questions; as much as he liked to joke around and tease the others by acting all embarrassingly open about his sex life, he didn’t actually want _everyone_ to know just what he and Aidan had done on Saturday. Sure, he had texted Jared about it, and had whispered a couple salacious details to Luke between takes (and received a high-five in return), but that didn’t mean the whole cast needed to know. “Did you eat any of our cookies yet?”

Jed nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I had a few of the peanut butter and chocolate chip ones. I think pretty much all the cookies are gone already,” he added. “You guys are good at baking.”

“That would be Dean who is good at baking,” Aidan corrected. “I’m not allowed to crack the eggs after we had to throw out two batches ‘cause I got a lot of shell in the dough.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall and wrinkled his nose. “I’m too tired to work more,” he complained, but he stood up and took his empty plate. “I’ll see you guys in a couple minutes.” He leaned over and kissed Dean’s temple. “Love you, babe.”

* * *

By the end of the day, Dean and Aidan were feeling exhausted, and stumbled into their house. “Is it cool if I just cook a frozen pizza?” Dean asked, opening the freezer and looking through it.

“Definitely,” Aidan answered, sitting down at their little kitchen table. “We could order one if you don’t want to cook it.”

Dean shook his head, pulling the frozen pepperoni pizza out of the freezer and setting it on the counter. “All I have to do is stick this in the oven,” he explained as he turned the dial on the oven to preheat it. “We got delivery a couple days ago. We’re real adults who don’t rely on delivery and can cook for themselves,” he muttered determinedly, pulling two beers out of the refrigerator and opening them. He handed one to Aidan, yawning as he did so. “I feel like we didn’t do more than we do most days, but I’m somehow more tired.”

“Probably because you’ve been limping all day,” Aidan pointed out with a grin, kissing Dean softly and quickly before drinking a little of his beer. “Did I break you or something?”

The blond laughed and kissed Aidan on the nose. “Nah,” he answered. “You probably bruised me, but in a really good way,” he explained. “We should definitely do it again, but not for a while. Let’s stick to being a bit gentler for a while, yeah?” He glanced over to the oven, wishing it would preheat faster. “Do you think you could stick this in the oven when it’s preheated, and set the timer for ten minutes?” he asked hopefully. “I’m going to get in a hot shower, if that’s okay.”

Aidan nodded, pretty sure he could do that without much of a problem. “Go ahead, babe. Stretch a little or something to see if it helps you.” He watched as Dean stumbled up the stairs, and then picked up a magazine, vaguely registering the sound of the shower starting as he began an article on some Maori art exhibit in Auckland. When the oven beeped, he put the pizza in and fumbled with the timer, feeling useful in the kitchen for once. When Dean finally came back down, wearing sweatpants and a thin long-sleeve shirt, the pizza was done and has just come out of the oven. “I cooked!” Aidan chirruped excitedly, putting the pan on the counter and getting out a knife.

“You did,” Dean agreed, smiling tiredly and pecking Aidan’s cheek. “Thanks, babe. Come on, let’s eat and then go to bed early.” He pulled plates out of cabinet and handed one to Aidan before taking two pieces of pizza and sitting at the table to eat them. “Richard asked me today if we want to come over on Friday for dinner,” he said after he finished a piece of pizza and thus felt a little better about the whole day. “He’s having Graham and James. He made it sound like it’s going to be a bit nice, with wine and some great food. Do you want to go?”

Aidan nodded, swallowing a mouthful of pizza before answering. “Richard’s a good cook, so that should be amazing.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, already excited at the prospect of good, homemade food that he didn't have to cook himself. He polished off his last piece of pizza and put his plate in the dishwasher, draining his beer and tossing the bottle into their recycling bin before stretching his back and sighing. “You ready for bed?” he asked, getting out a container for the leftover pizza. When Aidan nodded wearily, Dean packed up the rest of the pizza and put it in the fridge before shuffling up the stairs, his boyfriend close behind.

Aidan, still feeling a little gross from the day, stripped down for a shower, tossing his clothes in the general direction of their hamper before heading into the bathroom. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” he promised Dean, and left the bathroom door open so that the older man could go in and brush his teeth even while he was showering.

Dean mumbled a little in acknowledgement, pulling off all of his clothes and putting on a pair of flannel pajama pants instead. He wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth, too tired and sore to do more than think vaguely about getting in the shower to join Aidan. “Graham is going to give me a ride to set tomorrow, so you can sleep in a bit again,” he said loudly so that the brunet could hear him over the sound of the running shower.

“Mm, sleeping in,” Aidan said blissfully, laughing when his boyfriend grumbled in response. “It’s not my fault that Peter took one look at my gorgeous face and decided he couldn’t _bear_ to cover it with prosthetics,” he teased. After rinsing the last of the soap off of his body, he turned off the shower and stepped out, pulling a towel of the rack to dry himself off. “You always look so good in those pajamas,” he commented, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist and proceeding to drip water all over the older man’s bare torso.

“Aid, dry off and brush your teeth,” Dean said, nudging his boyfriend to get free from his arms so that he could pee. After managing to wash his hands around Aidan as the younger man brushed his teeth, he went back into the bedroom and flopped on the bed. “Good night,” he said quietly as Aidan threw on a pair of boxers, crawled into bed with him, and turned out the light.

“Night,” Aidan replied, wrapping his arms around Dean and kissing his neck before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep.

It felt like he had barely fallen asleep when he woke up, but the clock said it was three a.m. For a moment, the Irishman couldn’t figure out what had woken him, but then he heard a croaking noise from next to him. “Dean?” he muttered, sitting up and turning on the light. “Okay, yeah, you’re fine, just a little grand mal,” he whispered, petting the older man’s hair away from his sweaty face as he convulsed. “This is a little gentler than usual so that’s good, right, babe?” he said; while Dean’s seizures usually were violent, with large jerking movements, this one had smaller tremors, which didn’t shake the bed nearly as much. No wonder he hadn’t been able to figure out what had woken him up without turning on the light. “There, okay, done,” he added soothingly as Dean stopped moving and lay, unconscious, in the middle of the bed, panting.

When he regained consciousness, all Dean noticed at first was pain. His head felt like it had exploded and then been glued back together hastily. He rolled over to press his face into Aidan’s chest, hoping the pressure would take away the headache. It didn’t work, and he groaned, starting to notice a bit of nausea.

“You need anything?” Aidan asked softly, petting through Dean’s hair comfortingly. “It’s only three, babe. You can sleep for a couple hours. I can text Peter for you if you want to go in a bit late, too,” he added softly, gently tipping his boyfriend’s head so that he could see his face.

Dean winced, the light exacerbating his headache now that his face wasn’t in Aidan’s chest. “I want to curl up and die,” he croaked, his voice sounding rough. “I’d settle for some painkillers,” he added.

“I, uh, I can’t go get them if you don’t let go of me,” Aidan said after a few moments, because Dean was clinging to him and showed no sign of releasing him. “Babe, you need ibuprofen and water and I should really keep those on the bedside table but I don’t.” He took one hand and tried to pull the older man’s arm from around his waist, but Dean was damn strong for his small frame. “Okay, Deano, do you want painkillers or cuddling?” he asked, trying for the life of him to figure out what he was supposed to do.

The New Zealander sighed tiredly, curling up against Aidan closer and burying his face once more in his boyfriend’s chest. “Both. I don’t know,” he mumbled, his tone somewhere between cross and exhausted. “Stay here?” he requested hopefully after thinking about it for a few seconds. “I just need more sleep.” He breathed deeply as Aidan rubbed his back, and he tried to relax past his headache and fall back to sleep in their warm bed.

When Dean next woke up, he felt marginally better--at least better enough to go into work. When he glanced at his watch, though, he winced; he was supposed to have gotten to the set twenty minutes earlier. “Aid, I’m late,” he said, gently shaking his boyfriend to wake him up.

“I called Peter and he said they could work around you being an hour late,” Aidan mumbled as he woke up and realized what the hell Dean was going on about. “If you’re ready, though, I can give you a ride as soon as I put some clothes on.” With Dean being late, he might as well just head to set and hang around for an extra hour, reading a book, until he needed to be in makeup himself.

“Thanks, babe,” Dean said, getting up and wincing at how achy he felt as he grabbed some underwear and pulled it on. “Did I piss the bed when I seized? ‘Cause, you know, I should probably deal with that before I go to work.”

Aidan groaned, having forgotten about that completely. “You should take a quick shower before going in,” he told the older man, who made a face when he realized what that meant. “I’ll take care of the bed real quick and then we can go.” They had a mattress cover so it wouldn’t be much work to deal with, and he could easily throw the sheets into the wash, get dressed, and pick out a book to take to set while Dean was in the shower.

“Thanks,” Dean said, giving Aidan a quick kiss before taking his underwear back off and slouching into the bathroom to hop in the shower. He washed off as quickly as he could while actually managing to get fully clean, and by the time he was out and dressed again, Aidan was sitting on the bare mattress, reading a book. “Ready?” he asked as he yanked on some clothes and shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers.

“Of course,” Aidan answered, waiting for Dean to tie his shoes before leading the way downstairs and out to the car. “God, it’s so early,” he groaned, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Dean snorted. “Early? Seriously? I usually leave, like, forty-five minutes earlier than this. You’re spoiled, being the pretty dwarf,” he added, rolling his eyes as Aidan smirked. “I love you, even if I am jealous of how much sleep you get.” He settled back in the passenger seat and began to stretch his stiff arms as Aidan pulled out of the driveway and headed toward set.


	30. Apparently Richard's a Good Cook in My Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry if I'm a slow updater. I had intensive classes for two weeks, and now I'm going back to regular semester in less than a week, and I lost all trunk function recently which sucks ass. I fall over like every time I transfer. Blegh.
> 
> Okay, done complaining. I love all my readers, and if you read this and not my other story, here's some fun info! I'm fundraising/crowd-sourcing to get my own racing chair. If you can donate and would like to, there's a link in chapter 31 of my other story :) I know this is a weird place to post it, but, hey, worth a try

“Fucking hell, it’s cold out.”

“Well, yeah, Aid, that’s what happens in winter.”

Aidan sighed, looking put out. “I thought the southern hemisphere was supposed to be warm,” he told his boyfriend plaintively. “Now it’s fucking cold and I’m in, like, three million layers and I’m still not warm.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “You realize that the south of the southern hemisphere is near Antarctica, right? Funnily enough, Antarctica is cold, so we’re cold. And you can’t complain when you’re only wear jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater. Put on a fucking sweatshirt.”

“I shouldn’t have to wear a sweatshirt _and_ a sweater in the house,” Aidan complained.

“Oh my God, have you never experienced winter before?” Dean groaned. “Look, if we turn up the heat, it’s going to be too hot when we move around or anything. You’re sitting still to read, so of course you’re cold.” He gave Aidan a quick kiss on the cheek. “We need to go to Richard’s soon. You got those macaroons to give him as a thank-you, right?”

Nodding, Aidan stood up and stretched. “I’m going to get my shoes from upstairs and change into pants that don’t have holes in them. Does this sweater look okay?” he asked, looking down at his torso to check.

“It’s good,” Dean answered. “I’ll come up in a minute,” he added, wanting to finish the article he was reading. He continued to read for a few minutes before he got to the end, and he stood up and went upstairs. “Hey,” he said conversationally to Aidan, looking through the closet to find a pair of shoes that were comfortable and warm enough to wear outside in the freezing New Zealand winter. He found a pair of boots and pulled them on. “You almost ready?” he asked his boyfriend.

“Give me minute,” Aidan answered. “I just want to wash my face.” He ducked into the bathroom, lathering up his face and rinsing it as quickly as possible. When he went back into the bathroom, he found it empty. He found Dean near the door, grabbing a warm coat of a hook. “Did you get the macaroons?” he asked, and reached for his own coat when his boyfriend held up the box.

Dean followed Aidan out to the car, shivering a little. Despite his coat, and the way he had goaded the younger man for being cold, the freezing temperature coupled with wind chill was cutting through his pants. “I could do without the wind,” he told Aidan when he got into the car and the other man arched an eyebrow at how clearly cold he was.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aidan teased as he started the car and backed out of the driveway. “Admit it, you’re a wimp in the cold too.” He grinned as Dean sputtered, trying to protest, but unable find the words. “Man, we are such real adults. We had a dinner party a few months ago, and now we’ve been invited to a dinner party.”

“Ah, yes, dinner parties,” Dean said with a grin. “The universal sign of maturity.” He settled back in his seat as Aidan turned the radio on, tapping his fingers gently against his thigh along with the beat.

Richard’s house was only five minutes away, so they only got through a song and a half before pulling over to the side to park on the street and turning the car off. “I can’t wait to taste whatever Rich made,” Aidan said as they crossed they walked up driveway and the little path to the front door. He rang the doorbell, and then crossed his arms to try to keep warm through all the wind. Luckily, Richard was apparently pretty close to the door, because he opened it within ten seconds. “Hi!” Aidan greeted him cheerfully, pressing the box of macaroons into his hands. “Thanks so much for having us over.”

“Come in before you freeze,” Richard said, standing aside to let the two men in. “James is already here, and we’ve got some little hors d’oeuvres to eat before dinner. I’ve got a roast in the oven, and I’m making sautéed kale and dinner roles,” he said as they took off the coats and hung them by the door. He led them a little further into the house into the living room, where James sat, eating some finger foods.

“Hey, guys,” James said happily, waving at Aidan and Dean. “Come over here and eat some of this spread. I have no idea what’s in it, but it’s delicious.”

Dean sat down on the couch next to James, while Aidan took a chair. “Hi, James,” the New Zealander said, smiling at his friend. “How are you doing?” he asked, taking a piece of toasted baguette and spreading what looked like a soft cheese and herb mixture onto it.

“Pretty good,” James answered, taking another piece of bread and slathering it with spread. “I’m glad it’s the weekend, though. I feel like I’m about to collapse if I don’t get a good night’s sleep for once.” He looked up at the doorbell rang again. “Excellent, we’re all here. That roast smells really good, so I want to eat as soon as possible,” he said cheerfully as Graham walked into the room, his face pink from cold; Richard followed a couple steps behind.

“Hello, boys,” Graham said genially as he grabbed some food and took a seat in the chair next to Aidan. “What’s this about a roast?”

Richard smiled. “I’ll go check on it. It should be done soon,” he promised, heading into the kitchen. “Graham? Grab some wine,” he called out, realizing that he had forgotten to give his guests anything to drink.

The Scotsman stood up and followed Richard into the kitchen, but he came out a moment later with a bottle of wine in one hand and four glasses precariously held in the other. “Screw tops are so convenient,” he said conversationally, putting the glasses down and opening the wine to pour into the glasses. Each man took one, sipping a little immediately before simply holding them as they sat. “Got any plans for the weekend?” Graham asked, not to any of the other men in particular.

“Staying inside and out of the damn cold,” Aidan said. “Maybe getting delivery food instead of making something.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You say that like you cook,” he said with a smile. “But, yeah, we’re doing a lazy weekend. God knows all of us deserve one after the hours we put in during the week.”

James nodded vehemently. “I’m planning to sleep as long as possible,” he admitted. “We’re all going to go home relatively early tonight, right? I want to start my extra-long sleep by ten.”

“No worries,” Graham said, dusting off his shirt from any crumbs from the toast. “I’m old, so Richard always ends dinner with me early.”

“You can’t act all old,” Aidan protested. “Nobody is an early-to-bed old guy if he goes to the bars with us.”

Graham shook his head. “Young people,” he muttered. “I can stay up like that once in a blue moon, but you whippersnappers can do that all the time.” He stood up, still holding his wine glass, when Richard called out that dinner was ready. “Oh, good. Food,” he said, walking toward the dining room while the other man stood up and followed. Jimmy walked especially quickly, clearly extremely hungry.

In the dining room, Richard had put three dishes on the table, with the roast, which had been sliced, the kale, and the rolls. “I’m glad you all could come,” he said as the others sat down. “It’s hard to cook really good food for just one.”

“Thank God you like to cook really good food,” Dean said, mouth watering at the smell. “Feel free to cook more and invite us all the time.” He took a few pieces of beef and passed it to James, and then turned to take the bowl of kale from Aidan.

James made a noise of agreement. “Please feed us more often,” he begged.

Richard laughed quietly, getting another bottle wine for the table before sitting down. “I was thinking about giving other people a chance to have some home-cooked meals, but I guess I’ll let you all be selfish.”

“That’s a low blow,” Graham said. “Come on, you know Aidan and Jimmy grew up on guilt. That’s the Irish way.”

“That and potatoes,” Aidan agreed wryly. “I’m cool with being selfish and compromising my strong moral values if it gets me this food. Aww, don’t look at me like that, babe,” he added when he saw Dean giving him a look. “I love your cooking, but… this is a roast.”

Taking a roll and setting them down, Richard smirked over at Dean. “Your boyfriend likes my cooking more than yours,” he said cheerfully.

“Yeah, but I get laid,” Dean said placidly before taking a bite of the beef. “Oh, God. Aidan has every right to like this more. This is amazing,” he told the Englishman.

They lapsed into silence as they ate the food, occasionally chatting a little about work. Everyone was exhausted, and they couldn’t really keep up a conversation like normal people anymore, thanks to their shooting schedule. While the job was amazing, and everyone involved was grateful to be in it, they almost never got a full night of sleep.

“Thank you so much, Rich,” James said as he finished his beef and kale and picked up another roll. “That was really good, man.”

Richard smiled happily. “Glad you liked it,” he said. “I’ve got some cake if you want some.”

“You are literally my favorite person in the world,” James told the other man, smiling widely.

*

It was dark by the time Dean and Aidan got home; though it was still relatively early, the sky was an inky dark blue from the short winter days. “That was nice,” Dean commented as they sat down on the couch. “Want to throw on a movie or something?” he asked as he toed off his shoes and brought his legs up on the couch cushions, snaking an arm around Aidan’s back

Aidan checked his watched. “Yeah,” he answered, and he stood up to find a DVD to let his boyfriend keep lying down. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. We can do whatever the fuck we want and not have to get up early.” He pulled a few DVDs out for Dean to choose from. “We’ve also got porn as an option.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he muttered. “Throw in _Red_ ,” he suggested. “Old dudes kicking ass is fun.” He smiled when Aidan came back after sticking the DVD in and grabbing the remote. “I love you,” he mumbled, snuggling up close to the younger man.

“Love you too,” Aidan said, the response both automatic and sincere at the same time. He clicked a couple buttons on the remote to get the movie going, and then settled back comfortably and brought a hand up to scratch Dean’s scalp gently. “How’re you feeling today?”

With a shrug, Dean leaned into Aidan’s nice scratching. “Okay. I might fall asleep in the middle of the movie, though. I’m tired and I don’t want to push it, so I’m not even going to try stay awake.”

“Okay,” Aidan replied, paying more attention to Dean than the movie. “I’ll wake you up when the movie’s over so you can walk upstairs instead of sleeping on the couch. That’d make you sore as fuck in the morning.” He kissed his boyfriend’s temple before turning his attention to the movie.

By the end of the movie, Dean still hadn’t fallen asleep. “So much for sleeping early,” he muttered as he went up the narrow stairs and into their bedroom. “Why can’t I fall asleep? I’m tired.” He looked over at Aidan. “Maybe I could do the man thing and fall asleep after sex. Want to fuck?”

Aidan snorted. “Seriously? I’m your sleep aid?” He looked at Dean thoughtfully, though. “I’d be up for it if it weren’t for the fact I don’t want you to fall asleep under me.”

“Eh, you could keep going.”

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that,” Aidan said, rolling his eyes as he prodded his boyfriend into the bathroom. “Brush your teeth, babe. You’ll fall asleep once we’re in bed, and then you won’t make any weird somnophilia comments at me.”

Dean shrugged, pushing Aidan out of the bathroom as he got ready for bed. When he came out, he stripped off his clothes and fell into bed. “Don’t wake me up in the morning, okay? Just let me sleep as long as possible.”

“Of course,” Aidan answered, turning off the overhead light and only leaving on a dim lamp as he went into the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. By the time he was back in the bedroom, naked and toweling off his curls, his boyfriend was asleep. He smiled, and crawled under the blankets tiredly, making sure he was far enough away from the other man that he wouldn’t wake him up by dripping water on him. He flicked off the bedside lamp, yawning a little relaxed into his pillow tiredly. Though he took longer than Dean to fall asleep, he still managed to drop off within the hour.


	31. On the Wagon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks ThornyHedge for the chapter title!

Dean groaned as he sat on the bed, listening to the damn hold music from his neurologist’s office. How the hell was it taking this long to get through? Were that many people calling Dr. Philips? He had been waiting for ten minutes, and he couldn’t dick around on his phone since it was pressed to his ear. He was bored to the point of humming along with the music that had repeated so often that he had it memorized. There was only so long that he could take this; luckily, before he gave up and pressed the end call button, the receptionist came back on the line.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Dr. Philips has had a busy day, and her last appointment went a little over. She’ll be on the line as soon as she finishes making notes on the patient’s file.”

“Thanks,” Dean said gratefully. “Sorry for calling at such a busy time.”

He was less annoyed this time when he was put on hold again, because it actually felt like he had a chance of talking to his doctor within a reasonable amount of time.

“Hi, Dean,” Dr. Philips said when she picked up her phone. “Is everything okay?”

Obviously not, Dean thought. He wouldn’t have called if everything were going perfectly. “I’ve been having some trouble lately, and it’s interfering with work and my personal life more than it has in years. Is there anything I can do without coming in?”

“Are you getting enough sleep?”

Dean made an iffy noise. “Mostly. I’m working ridiculous hours, but I’m making sure to get between six and seven hours a night. That’s pretty good for my age, right? I feel like I read somewhere that you need less sleep as you get older.”

“Try to get closer to seven,” Dr. Philips told him. “What about drinking?”

“Mostly just socially, but sometimes it’s more,” Dean admitted. “I don’t have more seizures when I’m drunk, though. And I don’t get, like, fall down drunk or anything, just tipsy. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night and seized. It’s hell on me and on my boyfriend, because if I’m seizing in bed, he sure as hell can’t sleep. I’m sort of at my wits end.”

Dr. Philips made a quiet noise to show that she was listening as she paused to think. “Keep thinking about the surgery, of course,” she said. “I know you’re planning to wait until you’re done with filming, but with epilepsy affecting your life this much, you should really, really contemplate having it. For now, though, it might be a good idea to quit drinking completely. Try doubling your Lamictal, too. I’ll write up a prescription so you won’t run out. Send me a message through our patient portal after a week on that dosage to let me know if it’s working.”

“Okay,” Dean said; as much as he liked drinking with his friends and staying up to fuck around, he couldn’t live like this much longer. He was so tired of feeling like shit all the time, and he was also getting pretty sick of the medical team checking him for concussions at least once a week. Hell, even Aidan was getting pretty good at testing his pupillary response with the flashlight on his phone before checking his memory. It felt like a sad comment on his life that his boyfriend not only had those skills but also used them often.

“If you have any emergencies, call me,” Dr. Philips said. “And if you have any seizures lasting over half an hour, call an ambulance. With the kind you have, that can get dangerous.”

“Will do. Thanks so much. Bye.”

“Bye, Dean.”

A couple of moments later, Aidan knocked gently on the slightly open door and then poked his head in. “Hey,” he said softly, walking in once he saw that Dean was no longer on the phone. “What’d she say?”

Dean groaned a little. “Stop drinking, increase meds, and call her if there’s an emergency. I mean, if there’s a major acute emergency, I’m supposed to call an ambulance.”

“Good thing we’re not on location anymore,” Aidan said, trying to help Dean look on the bright side. It was a little hard to do that, since he couldn’t really understand his boyfriend’s experience. “Want something to eat?” he asked.

“Not really,” Dean answered, shaking his head. “Thank fuck for Saturdays,” he added, so grateful that he didn’t have to go into work that day or the next. “Dr. Philips also said I should get as much sleep as possible, so I’m going to be a super cool guy and go to bed early tonight. You can go out with the guys if you want. I’m going to be boring as shit.”

Aidan shook his head. “I’m happy to stay in. Is there anything I can do to help with… everything?” he asked; he wasn’t even sure what he could help with, but he felt like he needed to help somehow.

“Let me freak out to you if I need it?” Dean suggested uncomfortably. “She really wants me to get the surgery, and I think I have to. Honestly, I can’t live like this anymore. I feel like I’m always seizing or sick from the seizures, and I can’t even go to a bar with my friends. I have to go to fucking dinner parties with dudes ten years older than me because I can’t get drunk, so I settle in for boring evenings.”

“You hate dinner parties?” Aidan said blankly.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “I’m not a sit around and socialize nicely kind of guy. I do it because it’s that or being home, and if I’m home you feel like you have to be home so you don’t get to have a life either. If I’m alone I worry I’m going to concuss myself, and I…” he trailed off. “I’m falling the fuck apart.”

Gently, Aidan pulled Dean’s phone out of his nervous hands and put it on the bedside table. “Come here,” he said softly, lying down and pulling Dean with him as the little spoon. “I was going to say something about going out and not drinking, but drunk people are annoying as fuck when you’re sober.” He kissed the back of Dean’s neck. “We can stay home, though, or maybe go out to restaurants. You don’t have to drink at restaurants.”

“God, we’re old people,” Dean groaned, but he snuggled back into his boyfriend. “More sleep is probably good for you too, right?” He could feel Aidan nodding into his neck. “I’m sorry for ruining your social life, babe.”

Aidan shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s not that bad. We see those guys every day on set, and I’d rather spend time with you than go out without you all the time. I might go out with them a few times, but I’m not going to leave you alone every weekend. I love you, you daft idiot. Love means making sacrifices sometimes, and not spending every weekend at the same bar with the same people isn’t even that big of a sacrifice. Seriously, those fucks get a little annoying when they’re drunk, even when I’m drunk too.”

Dean laughed quietly. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, babe. You don’t have to go overboard with the sweet lies, though. As long as you don’t spend every weekend out with the guys, I won’t be upset. I might even tag along sometimes, as the designated person to put people in cabs.”

“You can also drag me away before I drink enough to puke,” Aidan suggested, nuzzling against the junction of the older man’s neck and shoulder. “Seriously, please don’t let me puke again. That night was the worst.”

The New Zealander shuddered a bit at the reminder. “I never managed to wash the vomit off that pair of shoes,” he muttered, his face drawing into a grimace. “And you were also pretty terrible the next morning. Between the puking and the headaches you were a total mess.” He slowly rolled over to face Aidan, sighing quietly. “Sorry for being a fucking downer. It’s just that Dr. Philips keeps bringing up the surgery and so do my parents, so I’m having a bit of a crisis because it feels like that’s my only option. Getting my wisdom teeth out was bad enough; how the fuck can I go through with brain surgery?”

“It’s not your only option,” Aidan said, quietly but firmly. “I mean, it might be the best one, but it’s not the only one. It’s not even necessarily the best option. No matter what, it’s your choice. If you’re this miserable, though, you should consider every option, including surgery.” He gave Dean a soft kiss. “I love you, babe, and I want you to be happy. You’re clearly not happy now, so surgery might be a good idea.”

Dean just dropped his head against Aidan’s chest, his forehead rubbing against the younger man’s soft sweater. “Maybe the increased dosage on my meds will make a difference,” he said hopefully, not sure if he really believed it. “That way I can have a better life without having wires and shit in my brain.”

“Yeah,” Aidan said, squirming a little closer to his boyfriend. “Look, I know it’s hard for you to talk about this, but if it’s making you this unhappy, I’ll always listen. And if you don’t want me to give advice or whatever, that’s fine and you can tell me that and I will just listen, and maybe kiss you or something at appropriate intervals. Like now,” he added, kissing Dean softly and briefly.

Dean laughed weakly, feeling mildly hysterical. “I used to be a regular guy. I had epilepsy, but it wasn’t like this. I seized every month or so and, like, yeah, they were bad, but it wasn’t all the time. I could go out without needing someone looking after me or whatever, and I didn’t feel like I was dragging anyone down in relationships, and now you’re always taking care of me and I fucking hate it.”

“I’m not always taking care of you,” Aidan said, hoping that he was being comforting. He was pretty sure he was failing, though, because Dean snorted. “Yeah, I do sometimes, but it’s a give-and-take. It’s not as physical or whatever, but when I went through shit coming out, and worrying about it, you let me cry and told me shit would be okay. When we come back from set and can barely stand, you still manage to make dinner. I’ve come home in fucking tears because I’m so exhausted and fucked up some takes or whatever, and you get me in the shower and make me feel better. It’s not checking me for concussions or anything, but it’s still taking care of me.”

The older man sighed. “Yeah,” he mumbled, but he was really just saying it for Aidan’s benefit, because he didn’t really believe it. “Look, can I just take a nap?” he said quietly, turning over again so that he back was pressed to Aidan’s chest as he closed his eyes.

“Yeah,” Aidan answered, feeling terrible that he wasn’t able to comfort Dean. “I’ll stay here with you,” he added softly, pressing his face against his boyfriend’s warm shoulder. He waited a couple minutes, listening as the older man’s breathing evened out and he began to snore a little.

He carefully moved onto his back so that he could mess around on his phone without bothering his sleeping boyfriend. After a couple moments playing Dumb Ways to Die, he stopped and pulled up his internet browser so that he could research the surgery that Dean’s neurologist kept mentioning. It took a few tries before he found a good explanation on the Mayo Clinic website, which he read carefully in hope of understanding. If Dean needed to talk to somebody about the surgery, it was better if that somebody wasn’t constantly asking clarifying questions just to figure out what was going on. He finished the page and put his phone down with a sigh. Fuck if he knew what was a good idea. Brain surgery sounded fucking awful, but if Dean couldn’t keep living this way… it might be the only thing he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah sorry I'm apparently morose today. Somebody commented that the last chapter didn't move the plot at all, which is true. I really struggle with the balance of it all, because as a person with epilepsy myself, I'm super uncomfortable with the idea of that being part of every single thing. However, it's obviously a huge part of this story. Basically, sorry for a shitty last chapter, and here's some kind of depressing plot.


	32. Why leave the bedroom when not leaving is an option?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I contemplated naming this chapter "Bang Bang" but felt that I should probably be classier than that...

When Dean woke up, he felt kind of bad for freaking out at Aidan. He rolled over and saw that the younger man was on his phone. “Sorry for vomiting all those emotions at you,” he mumbled, burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck. “I was tired.”

Aidan shook his head, wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulder. “It’s okay, babe. You don’t have to apologize for having feelings about brain surgery. I’ll make dinner for us, yeah?”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’ll call the order in,” Aidan admitted. “It almost counts as making dinner. We could do pizza or something. Pizza is great.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean replied. “We’ve got a while ‘til dinner, though. I don’t want to be a downer, but can we just stay in bed?”

Aidan grinned, tilting Dean’s head so the older man could see his expression and know that he wasn’t at all put out by the idea. “Yeah, ‘cause staying in bed is always so boring,” he teased. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but I find you incredibly hot and there’s lube in that drawer.” He jerked his head a little toward the bedside table to indicate which drawer.

“Mm, romantic,” Dean said with a laugh. “Are you serious or no?”

“Yeah,” Aidan answered. “You’re my boyfriend, you’re absurdly hot, as always, and it’s Saturday afternoon. So, you know, my dick, your sweet ass,” he finished, grinning as Dean rolled his eyes.

“That was literally the least sexy thing I have ever heard,” Dean muttered, but he smiled. After getting so stressed and upset, it was nice to be reminded that Aidan wanted him. “I’m all for it, but that was a terrible way to put it.”

Aidan smirked. “If you want something even less sexy, we can get the pizza now and I can do a porno setup with you. Did you order an extra-large sausage?” he asked in a low voice, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sometimes you act so much like a teenager that it’s hard to believe you’re almost thirty,” Dean commented, laughing when Aidan pushed him away playfully. “No porno roleplaying situations for me, thanks. I’m happy to indulge you in many sexual fantasies, but I wouldn’t respect myself in the morning if I did a pizza delivery scene.”

The younger man placed his hands on his chest theatrically. “I’m heartbroken,” he cried out, lapsing into giggles soon after. “I always assumed most guys would _want_ to have sex like in a porno. God knows if any of my old girlfriends had, I would have been over the moon.”

Dean shook his head. “No, babe, you want the sex in a porno, not the terrible lead up. There’s a reason nobody watches it for the plot.” He pulled Aidan by the hip until the younger man got the message and rolled over to straddle him. “Anything you want me to indulge you in that’s more realistic?”

“Seriously?” Aidan asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just throwing that out there for me? What if I’m a total weirdo?”

“And I somehow missed that in the past year?”

Aidan shook his head. “Come on, just take off your clothes, babe,” he murmured, moving off of his boyfriend so that they could both strip efficiently. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered as he looked down at Dean once they were both naked. “I goddamn adore you.”

Dean bit his lip, blushing a little under Aidan’s predatory gaze. “Feel free to show me just how much,” he suggested, leaning back into the pillows. He was tired and stressed, but he loved the way his boyfriend looked at him and made him feel. He shifted his legs a little further apart as the younger man knelt between them and balanced his weight on his hands to kiss Dean gently. The Kiwi hooked a strong arm around Aidan’s neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss.

With a moan that was muffled by Dean’s mouth on his, Aidan lowered his body slowly until he was pressed flush against the older man, skin to skin. He didn’t roll or grind his hips, content to take things slow and sweet. It felt like his boyfriend needed love and comfort, and he could provide that. He lifted his left hand from next to Dean’s shoulder to stroke his hair gently instead. “I love you,” he whispered after pulling back from the kiss.

“I love you too,” Dean mumbled, wrapping his fingers into the curly hair at the nape of his boyfriend’s neck. “Come on,” he groaned, tugging at the dark curls when Aidan didn’t come back down to meet his lips. Stopping, even for just a few seconds, brought back all his stress and fatigue and he needed Aidan to keep going and just make him feel better.

Aidan paused; Dean wasn’t actually meeting his eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, nosing at the older man’s cheek. “Can you look at me before we keep going?” he asked, sighing a little when his boyfriend turned his head a little to actually look at him—he didn’t exactly look ecstatic, which was not an expression the Irishman wanted to see. “Something wrong?”

Dean shook his head. “I’m just tired,” he said quietly, pulling Aidan closer when he started to pull back. “Please, just keep kissing me and distract me from everything,” he muttered. “This isn’t a terrible coping mechanism or anything, babe. If I’m not concentrating on something specific, everything just comes back, but that doesn’t change the fact that I still want you,” he added sincerely.

After carefully looking at his boyfriend for a moment, Aidan nodded. The older man looked completely sincere, beneath the crease of his brow. “Tell me if anything changes,” he said seriously. “You know I’ll stop the second you ask.” When Dean nodded, Aidan gave a little smile and leaned back down to kiss his boyfriend lovingly, petting his hair gently.

Letting himself get lost in all of it, Dean wrapped his free arm around Aidan’s waist and kissed him back. He rolled his hips up, starting slowly and gently but getting a bit faster and rougher relatively quickly. Foreplay was great and all, but he wanted to get fucked. He pulled his mouth back from Aidan’s as they started rutting against each other harder, cocks going from half-hard to fully erect as they did so. “Fuck me,” Dean moaned, sliding his right hand down from Aidan’s slim waist to squeeze his ass.

“Yeah,” Aidan panted, kneeling up so that he could pull the bottle of lube out of the drawer. He poured of the thin liquid onto his fingers and pressed one into his boyfriend. “God, you look desperate for it,” he groaned as Dean began to hitch his hips and ride his finger immediately. He slid another finger in nearly immediately, sucking in an aroused breath when the older man continued to thrust against them. “Oh my God,” he gasped.

Dean arched a little. He knew that he was getting Aidan to rush the prep, but it felt so good to have that little bit of pain in the stretch. “More,” he hissed, pulling the younger man down into a harsh kiss, one with clashing teeth and desperate breaths, when he felt a third finger slide inside him, scissoring and stretching efficiently. It only took a minute before Dean yanked his head back from the kiss to growl, “Please, babe.”

Aidan took a shuddering breath as he pulled his fingers out of his boyfriend’s body and used the excess lube to slick up his cock. Because of the limited, rushed prep, Dean was still amazingly tight. “Tell me if it hurts,” he rasped out, biting his lip as he pulled the older man’s legs around his lap and slowly guided his erection in. “God,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut tightly to try and force himself to go slowly. He hadn’t felt such wonderful pressure around him that he could remember.

It hurt; Dean wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t. Alongside with the pain, though, was the familiar and welcome stretch of Aidan’s cock inside him. “Don’t stop,” he groaned, scraping his nails down his boyfriend’s back. As he had hoped, the younger man reacted as strongly as he had the first time Dean had done that: he shuddered and lost a little control, thrusting the last couple inches of his cock in all at once. “Yes!”

“Fuck, you’ve never been this tight,” Aidan said in a strained voice, rolling his hips gently instead of thrusting as he let Dean’s body adjust. He would have continued to do so, but the older man started to jerk his hips back against him and making frantic noises. Dipping his head to bite Dean’s neck, he pulled his erection halfway out and snapped his hips forward again, moaning along with his boyfriend at the feeling.

Dean arched back, exposing more of his neck for Aidan to bite and leave marks on. One hand moved over his head and clutched a pillow, needing another physical outlet for all of the sensation. “Aidan,” he moaned, voice breaking a little in pleasure. He tightened his legs around the younger man’s waist, his heels digging into the flesh right above the brunet’s ass. The extra pressure brought Aidan’s torso down a couple inches, and Dean cried out loudly as the slick head of his cock rubbed against his boyfriend’s taught stomach. “Fuck!” he gasped, eyes rolling back a little.

Aidan stopped biting at Dean’s neck and instead just panted against it as he thrust, hard and fast, into the older man’s tight body. “I,” he grunted, his forehead in the pillow, “fucking love you.” Rallying together all the energy that wasn’t being used to pound his boyfriend into the mattress, he used an arm to lift himself up so that he could look Dean in the eye. “You get that? Fucking love you and every-fucking-thing about you,” he growled, wrapping his hand around his boyfriend’s erection and squeezing it in emphasis before starting to stroke him hard.

“I…” Dean ground out, breathing heavily. “I l-love…” He gave a valiant attempt at returning the sentiment but instead just cried out wordlessly as he came, shuddering under Aidan as he did so. He took in breaths in little gasps as the younger man stroked him through it, falling back into the pillows as the last few drops of come fell onto his stomach from Aidan’s hand. “You can… you can keep going,” he panted when the Irishman paused his thrusts uncertainly.

“Sure?” Aidan asked, chest heaving and forehead beaded with sweat. “I don’t have to,” he added breathlessly.

“Sure,” Dean answered decisively.

Aidan dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder, his hands braced on either side of the older man’s head to support his own body. It felt a little awkward to start moving again, but his boyfriend was still tight around him and made encouraging little noises under him. It only took him another minute before he came, mouthing Dean’s skin as he rode it out. He practically collapsed onto the body below him, breathing heavily. “Oh, God.”

Dean let his legs fall back onto the bed, rubbing a gentle hand over Aidan’s scratched-up back. “I love you too,” he whispered, squirming a little and pushing his boyfriend off him and to the side, wincing a bit as the younger man’s soft dick slipped the rest of the way out of him. “Thank you.”

Breathlessly, Aidan laughed. “This is probably the first time I’ve been thanked for sex in my whole life,” he said, kissing Dean’s cheek. “I meant everything I said. I really do love you and everything about you,” he added sincerely.

“You’re amazing in so many ways,” Dean whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so loved in my whole fucking life.” He smiled. “Guess it works out, since I’ve never been in love with someone like I’m in love with you.”

Aidan knew he should clean them up, but he was too content to move and didn’t want to leave Dean alone. The New Zealander clearly still needed closeness and comfort, so Aidan just stayed wrapped around him. “What kind of pizza do you want?” he asked, not wanting his boyfriend’s thoughts to wander back into stress.

Dean snorted. “Nice pillow talk,” he teased, leaning his head on Aidan’s shoulder. “Let’s do something different, like red peppers or something,” he continued, answering the younger man’s question. He wasn’t going to ignore a question about pizza just because it was asked within five minutes of orgasm. Pizza was a damn important topic. “We can get a medium, and if there are any leftovers, we can eat them tomorrow. I’ll throw together a salad.”

“I was trying to make it so you don’t have to put in any effort,” Aidan protested.

“Aid, we have a bag of mixed salad greens and bottled dressing. It’s not really effort,” Dean pointed out, grinning. “If it’s that important to you, you can put the salad greens in the bowl and pour a bit of dressing on it.”

Aidan smiled. “I will,” he told his boyfriend. “Come on, let’s get in the shower before that come dries up and gets crusty,” he added, nudging Dean a little so that he’d get out of bed and head toward the shower. He stood up slowly and followed the older man, watching the way Dean took each step gingerly. “That might have been a little much,” the brunet muttered.

“Shut up, it was great.”


	33. Sundays Are Sex Days

On Sunday, Dean woke up at nine; thanks to their filming schedule, getting up at nine felt like sleeping in. He was surprised to see that Aidan was no longer in bed, since the younger man rarely got up before he did. He shuffled down the stairs, scratching his chest through his thin t-shirt. “What are you doing up so early, babe?” he asked when he saw his boyfriend sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a book.

“I woke up an hour ago and you were snoring really loudly,” Aidan answered with a bit of a shrug, glancing up from his book. “There’s more coffee if you want it,” he added, jerking his head to the side to indicate the drip pot on the counter.

Dean shuffled around the kitchen to get himself a mug and pour coffee into it. “Did you eat?” he asked, grabbing a few slices of bread and putting them in their beat-up little toaster oven. “Do you think you’re up for driving to the grocery store today?” he asked, getting out plates, knives, butter, and jam as he waited for the toast to finish.

Aidan gave up on reading his book, and he set it aside as he turned in his seat to face Dean. “Yeah, I can do that,” he answered. “I just need to be here around eight to Skype my ma. She guilted me really hard about not talking to her enough,” he added, pulling a face. “Oh, ta,” he said cheerfully when Dean pulled the first couple pieces of toast out of the oven and slid them on a plate in front of him.

“Mm,” Dean hummed in response, giving Aidan a brief kiss before he pulled the rest of the toast out and sat down with his boyfriend. “My back hurts like hell,” he muttered as he buttered his toast. “I think I pulled a muscle with a seizure earlier in the week and then the fucking stunts just about killed it.”

With a sympathetic grimace, Aidan gently bumped his knee against Dean’s. “We can take it easy after we get our supermarket shop. I’ve got a heating pad somewhere around here, so you can lie on the couch with it and I’ll wait on you hand and foot like some sort of kinky slave thing, but, you know, without the kink.”

“Ooh, kink without the kink, how fun,” Dean deadpanned. “That’s probably a good idea, though. I need to be back on my feet for work tomorrow. Preferably without a fucked-up back,” he added, frowning a little as he shifted positions.

Aidan nodded, turning back to his book when Dean pulled out his phone and started to read the news. He hadn’t really had a relationship like this before—one where doing their own things side-by-side in silence wasn’t awkward. He nibbled at his toast as he read, letting himself wake up slowly. It was nearly an hour before he looked up from the book, and he only did so because his phone beeped and buzzed on the table. “Luke is apparently lonely and wants to have pizza and beer with us tonight,” he informed his boyfriend.

“I never thought I’d say this, but not pizza,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’m up to hang out, but we’ve ordered pizza too much in the last couple weeks. Just let him know I won’t be drinking, ” he added as his boyfriend began to type a reply on his phone; he didn’t want their friend to go out of his way to buy beer that would go undrunk that evening.

Once Aidan had hit the send button, he stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket as he did so, and took their breakfast dishes to wash. “If you want to go lie down and play a video game or something, I’ll get my heating pad for you,” he offered, but Dean shook his head.

“I’ll clean if you’re going to do that,” he replied, tugging the dishes out of Aidan’s hand and taking them over to the sink. With just two plates and mugs, he elected to wash everything by hand rather than stick it all in the dishwasher. He still managed to finish the washing before Aidan reappeared with the heating pad, though, so he took the younger man’s advice and turned on the PlayStation, sticking in _Katamari Damacy_ and setting himself up on the couch. He was halfway through the first level when Aidan walked in. “You’re the best,” he said, pausing the game to plug in the heating pad that his boyfriend handed to him.

“Aren’t I just,” Aidan replied with a grin, handing over a bottle of ibuprofen once Dean had the heating pad plugged in and warming up behind his back. While the older man opened the bottle, he took the controller and resumed the game, humming along with the music.

A few minutes passed as Aidan rolled up the Katamari and Dean simply relaxed against the comfortable temperature of the heating pad. “Aid?” the older man started, sounding a little awkwardly.

“Yeah?” Aidan asked absently, moving through the little town of the game, gleefully rolling up benches and people alike.

Dean looked away uneasily, too uncomfortable to make eye contact with his boyfriend. “What’s the most memorable sex we’ve had?” he asked softly, refusing to look even near Aidan. Instead, he stared at the wall, hoping that the younger man would be distracted enough by the video game to answer his question automatically without noticing them.

“I dunno,” Aidan answered, focusing more on the last meter of diameter he needed for the level than on what Dean was saying. “The first time was great, ‘cause it was all so new. I mean, the first time I had sex with you was my first time with a man, and anal is different than with a vagina, you know? But, I guess, if I really think, the first time we fucked with the, uh, you know, lace underwear… that was pretty amazing. So one of those? It’s hard to judge sex objectively.”

The older man sighed. “That’s the most memorable?” he asked. “You’re not talking about the best or anything?”

Aidan put down the controller as he finished the level, centimeters away from completing. “What are you on about, babe?” he asked, not paying attention to the screen as the King of the Cosmos berated him for having too small of a Katamari.

“Just tell me what memory of sex sticks on the most.”

It only took another second before Aidan realized what his boyfriend was getting at. “The first time,” he said firmly, scooting close to Dean and wrapping an arm around him. “It’s not the time you seized,” he said softly.

“I…” Dean sighed, finally looking at Aidan, feeling guilty the whole time. “That’s all I can think about sometimes,” he mumbled. “I’ll look over at you in bed and think about starting something, but then I think about what happened and I can’t touch you because I’m so scared it’s going happen again.”

Deciding that the one-arm hug wasn’t cutting it, Aidan pulled Dean into his chest and help him tightly. “I can’t promise that it won’t happen again,” he said slowly, trying to figure out what would calm the older man down. “If it does, though, it’ll be okay. Last time, you told me in time, I pulled out, and we were okay.”

“That’s not the point,” Dean said miserably, pressing the side of his face against Aidan’s chest. “It’s fucking ruined me. I can’t just fuck my boyfriend like a normal guy because of that shit.” He groaned softly, feeling utterly terrible.

Stroking Dean’s hair gently, Aidan made quiet shushing noises. “Would it help to talk to Hugo about it?” he asked hesitantly after a moment. “I know he gave you his number, and you can just text him. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, just tell him that you’re feeling stuck on a… seizure thing.”

“He’d think I’m a fucking idiot about it,” Dean muttered. “I should be able to move past it, but I can’t.”

“Nobody can expect you to move on easily, least of all Hugo,” Aidan said firmly. “He probably knows better than anyone how fucking hard it is.” He leaned in to kiss his boyfriend’s neck tenderly, sucking gently for a few moments until he felt the tendons beneath his lips relax and began to suck in earnest. “I don’t give a shit if you had a seizure during sex,” he told the older man in a low growl. “You still turn me the fuck on.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, even though Aidan couldn’t see him. “Seriously? I freak out about what happened and you still…” He trailed off as the Irishman squirmed closer. “And you’ve got a semi?”

“Well,” Aidan began in a husky voice, reaching around his boyfriend to run a hand up his torso, feeling his hard abs, his pecs, and his stiff nipples, “I started thinking about my first time with a man—that man being you—and then I thought about my first time taking it up the arse, and now I really, _really_ want, or more like need, you to fuck me.”

Turning around, Dean grinned at the brunet. “On the couch?” he asked, getting a little breathless and hot at the thought. “You’re always fucking tight, babe,” he added, pushing Aidan onto his back and looming over him. “You turn me on more than anyone on the goddamn planet.”

“I do?” Aidan mumbled, wrapping his arms around Dean and yanking their hips together. “Naked,” he moaned, needing to have his boyfriend against him, in him. “You’re going to fuck me like you mean it.” He made sure to keep up the begging, the needy dirty talk to keep Dean’s thoughts off of his stress and anxiety about sex. “Get your dick inside of me and fuck me.”

“Shit,” Dean panted, grabbing the hem of Aidan’s shirt and pulling it from the younger man’s body roughly. “Lube,” he muttered, kneeling up between the Irishman’s legs to tear desperately at the button of his jeans. “Gotta have lube.” He moved on to wrestle with Aidan’s fly.

“Don’t need it.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, no, we fucking need it,” he told the younger man. “Going at it dry would fuck up your ass and my cock. Where’s the fucking lube?”

“Bedroom,” Aidan gasped. God, they needed to start keeping some downstairs for emergency sex situations like this.

Clearly frustrated, Dean stood up. “Get naked,” he demanded, pulling off his own shirt and starting to undo his jeans as he stumbled toward the stairs. He stepped out of them and his briefs halfway up, leaving them on one of the steps without a second thought as he rushed into the bedroom and grabbed the tube of slick. He tripped down the steps with it, dashing back to his boyfriend and finding him on the couch, naked, hard, and stroking himself with purpose. “Jesus fuck,” he groaned, launching himself onto the younger man desperately.

“Holy shit,” Aidan huffed, digging his nails into Dean’s ass and shuddering. “Please.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the Kiwi poured some lube onto his hand and reached between Aidan’s legs, sliding a finger in quickly. He blinked in surprised when he met little resistance. “You’re… relaxed,” he muttered, leaning into the Irishman’s neck and starting to bite.

“I might…” Aidan gasped as teeth sunk into tender flesh. “I might have fingered myself in the shower yesterday.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dean breathed, his cock jumping between their sweaty bodies. “I can’t believe you… Christ.” He couldn’t finish his sentence, too turned on to form coherent phrases. “My fucking… God.”

Aidan grinned, glad that he managed to both surprise his boyfriend and turn him on like that. “Fuck me,” he groaned, whimpering a little bit when a second finger pressed into his body. “Dean, please!”

“You sexy fuck,” Dean hissed, shoving a third finger in nearly immediately and moaning as Aidan shuddered and jerked up beneath him. “I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life.”

“Yes,” Aidan breathed, his left hand snaking up to grab onto blond hair and pull roughly. “I’m ready,” he muttered after a minute of scissoring fingers passed. He bit his lip as Dean reached down and guided his erection into Aidan’s waiting body. “Fuck, yes,” he keened, arching his back as the older man sank into him slowly, extending the moment.

Dean let out a short, high-pitched moan through his nose, burying his face in Aidan’s neck and letting his nose rub into the wet patch that his biting had created on the sensitive flesh. “You fingered yourself and you’re still so fucking tight,” he ground out, sucking in breath harshly. “Fuck!”

Jerking his hips up to drive the New Zealander’s thick cock further into him, Aidan cried out loudly. “Dean,” he groaned, scratching his short fingernails down the older man’s back. “So fucking good, babe. So fucking good!”

Panted heavily, Dean thrust harder into his boyfriend, his eyes rolling back into his head a little. “Am I better,” he began, emphasizing his words with a sharp bit to Aidan’s chest, “than anyone you’re ever had?”

“Yes!” Aidan screamed, practically shaking beneath the smaller man as his prostate was hammered. “Fucking better!” He chewed at his lip, wanting to prolong the experience and needing to distract himself from the way his leaking erection rubbing against Dean’s stomach. He forced his eyes to stay open and bent his head forward so it wouldn’t hang off the arm of the couch.

Dean, on the other hand, had let his eyes slip shut as he lost himself in the feeling of Aidan’s tight body around his cock. “Aidan,” he whispered, placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder to serve the dual purpose of holding himself up and keeping his boyfriend down, reveling in the power. “Baby,” he groaned, making a rare use of the pet name they had long ago deemed too straight for their relationship.

“Shit,” Aidan grunted, shuddering violently with a pleasure that came only from a cock inside of him. “I’m gonna come,” he gasped, pulling a hand from Dean’s body and wrapping it around his desperate erection. “I’m gonna fucking come!”

It was then that Dean felt a sharp pain in his head, and his eyes snapped open. “No, no,” he breathed.

“Can’t help it,” Aidan groaned, head tipped back so that he couldn’t see his boyfriend’s panicked expression. “Oh, fuck!” he keened, sticky white fluid spilling onto his hand and stomach as he started to come, eyes rolling back with the sheer intensity of it.

Unable to move in time, Dean fell onto Aidan’s chest as his body began to jerk uncontrollably. With a shocked scream, the younger man shoved his hands up reflexively, knocking the blond off of him and onto the floor. “Shit!” he cried, falling off after him in alarm. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, shuddering as his body struggled through aftershocks of an orgasm cut short by terror. “Babe,” he soothed, petting a hand through Dean’s hair, wishing his attention weren’t drawn down by the sweat glinting off his boyfriend’s chest and the erection slapping his twitching stomach.

Dean’s body fell still, the only movement the sharp rise and fall of his chest as he gasped for desperately needed breaths. Ten minutes later, his regained consciousness was given away not by opened eyes or rasped words, but by the tears that began to stream down his face.

“It’s okay,” Aidan whispered, anxious to keep his boyfriend from hysterics. “I swear, babe, it’s okay, everything’s fine.” He reached down and wiped the tears from the older man’s cheek, but they were immediately replaced by more as Dean’s frame was wracked by violent sobs.

“It’s not okay!” the blond gasped, unable to decide between curling closer to Aidan and trying to get away from the younger man to escape his humiliation. “It’s not fucking okay!”

Aidan felt his eyes prickle with sympathetic tears, but he didn’t let them fall. Crying would just make Dean feel worse, would tell the older man that it wasn’t okay. “I…” He glanced down Dean’s slender body and noticed his cock was still hard, deep red and leaking a puddle of precome onto his stomach. “I can finish you off?” he offered, unsure if the proposal would be welcome or not.

“Do I look like I’m in the goddamn mood?” Dean screamed, choosing the option to scooting away from his boyfriend. “I don’t want a fucking… pity handjob!” he hissed as Aidan reached out and laid a hand on his hip.

Sadly, Aidan pulled his hand back. “Okay,” he said softly. “No handjob. Let’s… let’s calm down, okay? Freaking out is just making your breathing worse.” He moved a foot across the floor, getting close to Dean without actually touching him. “Do you want to talk about it, babe?”

Completely unable to stop his sobbing and desperately needing comfort, Dean rolled over and buried his teary face in Aidan’s hip. “I… can’t,” he gasped out. “Nothing…” He couldn’t finish his sentence and lapsed into harder weeping, no longer rejecting Aidan’s attentions as the younger man wrapped his arms around him.

“It’s okay,” the Irishman whispered in a soothing tone.  “We’re okay, babe. Everything’s okay, you hear me? A couple seizures during sex won’t make me stop loving you, or wanting your body, or anything,” he swore, voice fierce with unbreakable promise. “You are mine and I am not letting you go.”

Dean gasped for air, pulling his head from Aidan’s lap as his tears began to slow from unrelenting sobs into pure crying. “I need,” he whispered, but did not continue.

“What do you need?” Aidan prompted after the silence dragged on for a few moments.

Though he had no idea why, Dean’s tears turned to sobs once more. “To talk to Hu… to talk to Hugo.”

Aidan carefully placed Dean’s head on the ground and stood up. “I’ll call him,” he said softly, walking to the stairs to find his boyfriend’s jeans, pulling the phone out of them and unlocking the screen. After a moment of scrolling, he found Hugo’s number and pressed to call.

“Hello?” Hugo answered, sounding a little distracted.

“Hey,” Aidan said awkwardly. “I’ve got an emergency.”

The distracted tone disappeared. “What sort of emergency?”

Aidan grimaced. “A naked boyfriend sobbing inconsolably on the floor of the living room sort of emergency?” he said hesitantly.

“Shit,” Hugo swore. “A bad seizure?”

“Honestly? ‘Bad’ seems like an understatement,” the Irishman admitted. “He said he needs to talk to you, and I think he just needs someone who understands. Look, if you aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to. I’ll figure something out. You’ve only known him for a couple weeks, and this is an… intimate topic,” he mumbled, blushing brightly.

Hugo hummed a little in response. “I’m okay with it,” he answered. “You’ve been with him for a year, and if you can’t comfort him, it’s got to be pretty bad. I think it’d be better if I come over instead of just talking to him on the phone.” He paused. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Thanks,” Aidan said, sighing in relief. Hugo was coming to help his distraught boyfriend, and thank _fuck_ that much of the cast, themselves and Hugo included, lived in houses in the same neighborhood, within walking distance of each other. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Yeah,” Hugo said, a jingling in the background indicating he had grabbed his house keys. “Bye.”

Aidan hung up and gathered up Dean’s jeans, tossing them into a corner of the kitchen to get them out of the way. “Hugo’s coming over, babe,” he said softly as he made his way back into the living room, where Dean was still crying on the floor, curled in on himself. He tugged on his jeans and grabbed a blanket off the couch before sitting on the floor with his boyfriend, covering his naked form with the blanket and pulling him into a tight embrace. “It’s okay,” he said softly. He had already said that many times, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Please, babe, calm down and stop crying.”

Dean couldn’t stop, and his breath came in hiccupping sobs as he shook against Aidan’s strong chest. “Not okay,” he managed to gasp out, wishing he could stop the tears pouring over his boyfriend’s chest hair. “How is it…” He paused to suck in air so he could finish his sentence. “How is it okay?”

“I love you,” Aidan said firmly. “I fucking love you and won’t stop. I know you think this means I won’t want to have sex with you, or that I’ll break up with you, but I swear to God none of that is true.” He gave a brave attempt at a smile. “I still came, didn’t I? You’re still amazing.”

“I can’t remember you coming,” Dean said thickly, sobs dissolving once again into more simple tears. “I was already starting to fucking seize when you came. How fucked up is it that you came from my…” He couldn’t even finish the thought; it was too horrifying to dwell on.

Insides going cold at the thought, Aidan just held Dean and shushed him wordlessly, wishing anxiously that he could comfort him. He kept that up until the doorbell rang, and he gently let Dean down to the floor before heading to the front to let Hugo into the house. “Thanks for coming,” he said quietly, knowing he looked a fucking mess. He had completely forgotten to wipe the come off his stomach, and it had dried in the trail of hair that lead from his jeans to his navel, his hair was a mess from getting fucked crudely on the couch, and his expression was surely close to hysteria.

“Nobody deserves to be hurting as much as he is right now,” Hugo said, feeling terrible for his… Dean was somewhere between acquaintance and friend, but he still cared. “Where is he?”

“In there?” Aidan said softly, pointing toward the living room. “I’ll make tea to give you some privacy.”

Hugo nodded and headed into the living room, his heart breaking a little when he saw Dean on the floor, crying despondently, curled in fetal position under a blanket. “Dean,” he whispered, walking over to the younger man and dropping to the floor next to him be be on his level and talk to him. “I know that whatever happened is total shit,” he added quietly. “And I can guess what it was. You’re naked and there’s a shirt on the floor and Aidan looks… well,” he said, “it had to be awful.”

Dean had no idea where to start, but he turned his head to stare up at the other man. “I don’t… I couldn’t pull out. He still… he fucking came. What the fuck?” he asked, feeling vaguely bad for forcing the details upon Hugo and talking about what Aidan had done, but he needed the Australian to understand.

Blushing a little at the uncomfortable details of his friends’ sex life, Hugo winced. “Jesus,” he said softly. “I can’t say that’s happened to me,” he admitted. “It doesn’t mean Aidan hates you or anything. He called me, terrified, and didn’t give a single thought to how embarrassed he’d be when you told me about what happened. The man loves you.”

“How can I ever have sex again?” Dean asked, wiping furiously at his tears. “I just want to have a relationship like everyone else does, and I don’t think I’m ever going to fuck my boyfriend again. He can say it doesn’t matter all it wants, but next time we’re in bed he won’t be turned on unless he thinks of someone else.”

Hugo rolled his eyes. “Have you seen the way Aidan looks at you?” he asked. “Even when there are a million other people around, he looks at you like he’s going to do some very inappropriate things to you. Nobody that into you is going to stop wanting to have sex with you after a couple seizures.”

“It’s not just a couple seizures,” Dean said miserably. “It’s seizures during sex. I might have…” He let out a distressed noise as a few more tears rolled down his cheeks. “I could have pissed inside him. That’s so fucked up.”

“That’s a thing,” Hugo said, giving a little smile. “A thing some people like, I mean. So, like, with any luck, Aidan thought it was hot.” He stopped when he saw Dean’s lower lip trembling. “Dean, nothing I can say will take away the fact this happened, and it’s probably going to haunt you for a while. It’s emotionally scarring because you love him and sex is something you’re supposed to be able to control, but it happened, and you need to think about how to recover, not spend your time wishing it hadn’t happened.”

Dean sniffed, and turned on his back, slowly catching breath as his tears slowed and dried up.

Hugo’s face turned red and he stared ahead at the television, not down at Dean. His friend was tenting the blanket, though he didn’t seem to notice. He couldn’t help but comment, though, “You seriously had sex with that video game music on in the background?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Dean said, voice raw from sobbing. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact he had fucked to the _Katamari_ theme song. “Why aren’t you looking at…” He glanced down his body. “Oh,” he muttered, a mortified blush rising up his chest and over his face. “Oh, my God. This might be the most embarrassing moment of my life. I’m really sorry I told Aidan I needed to talk to you.”

Shaking his head, Hugo simply said, “I understand. You needed someone who would get it. That said… your boyfriend is making tea and you’re no longer crying, so I think I’m going to go.”

“Thanks for coming,” Dean said quietly, gathering up the blanket to keep it around his waist as he followed Hugo to the door. “Bye,” he said quietly, and Hugo said the same in return. The younger man locked the door behind his friend, and then tossed the blanket into the living room haphazardly. He wasn’t going to feel sorry for himself anymore, and he stalked into the kitchen with obvious purpose. Aidan had barely looked up when Dean crowded him against the counter, mouthing at his neck hungrily.

“Dean?” Aidan said, surprised at this turn of events. “What are you…?”

“I’m hard and you’re hot,” Dean growled, sliding a hand to the front of his boyfriend jeans and palming his crotch. Aidan was clearly flaccid under the fabric, but the New Zealander didn’t give a shit; he was going to get the man hard if it was the last thing he fucking did.

Confused but excited, Aidan moaned softly and ground forward into Dean’s hand. He wasn’t even thirty yet, so he trusted his cock to get hard again. “You going to fuck me again?” he asked breathily.

“No,” Dean muttered, snapping his teeth over Aidan’s chest, knowing he was leaving marks that would be purple by the following day. “I’m going to shove your jeans down to your knees and grind against you ‘til I come all over your dick, and you’re gonna come from that, you beautiful fucking pervert.”

That wasn’t a kink that Aidan had ever thought about before, not even when he’d spent those embarrassing night looking at basically all the gay porn he could find, he shuddered at the thought of it. “Yeah,” he groaned quietly, feeling his cock begin to fill with blood. “Fucking yeah.”

Realizing that he was far ahead of Aidan in terms of hardness and closeness to orgasm, Dean flashed a grin at the younger man and dropped to his knees, delighted with the shocked look he got in response. “What?” he asked innocently as he opened the other man’s jeans and dragged them down a few inches to expose his slowly awakening cock. “I’ve got to get you caught up to my level.” He gave his boyfriend another cheeky grin before beginning to lick at his slightly erect dick. “Think you can get it up again, gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” Aidan breathed, hips jerking as Dean’s tongue laved over sensitive flesh. “How could I stay soft with you on your knees for me?”

“Mm,” Dean hummed in agreement, “good point.” With one hand gripping the younger man’s hip tightly to keep his thrusts controlled, he brought the other up to direct his boyfriend’s mostly flaccid cock into his mouth and he began to suck, gently at first, but harder as the flesh began to lengthen.

Choking on a breath, Aidan reached his hands into Dean’s hair to grip it tightly. “Holy shit,” he groaned, unused to the feeling of getting hard again so soon, and with a talented man’s mouth to boot. “God, I fucking love you.”

Dean pulled off of Aidan’s cock for a moment. “I love you too,” he said, his voice hoarse from his recent crying spell and the current blowjob. “Tell me when you’re close enough to get off on my come.”

Aidan nodded, willing to agree to anything to get Dean on his erection again. “You look so good sucking dick,” he muttered, gently yanking his boyfriend’s hair. After a couple minutes, filled with Dean’s tongue pressed against the vein running up the underside of his cock as he sucked, he pulled the older man’s head back. “I’m close enough,” he gasped, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist as he stood and began to grind against him.

The New Zealander moaned as he circled his hips against Aidan’s, sinking his teeth into the younger man’s neck as he was too short to kiss him easily. “God,” he gasped, breath hitching as he hit a particularly good angle, “I’m gonna come all over your cock.”

“Do it,” Aidan encouraged, nails digging into the older man’s ass. “Come on, babe, fucking do it.”

Taking his boyfriend’s instruction to heart, Dean stopped trying to hold off and thrust his hips harder against Aidan’s, letting out sharp, pleasured noises as he did so. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… Aidan!” he cried, finally feeling sweet release as he spilled thick, hot come over the younger man’s erection.

“Dean,” Aidan groaned, drawing the single syllable out as he shuddered in pleasure at the mere feel of his boyfriend’s semen spurting onto his cock. “Fucking hell…” He thrust roughly forward, yanking Dean’s hips into his own until he sighed out his own orgasm, adding to the mess between their stomachs.

Panting, Dean moved to Aidan’s side so that he could lean against the counter. “That was hot.”

“Damn right,” Aidan agreed, leaning over to kiss Dean’s cheek fondly. “Now do you believe I still want you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said with a relaxed and sated smile. “I’ll probably need you to prove it a lot, though.” He nudged the younger man gently. “Maybe daily, for a bit.”

Aidan snorted. “Because we have so much leftover energy after filming.

Dean pouted. “Come on, babe, you’re going to show me how much you love my body, won’t you?”

Aidan grinned. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things were rough in here, but heyo, makeup/renewed-self-esteem sex!


	34. Dude this chapter feels busy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a very long chapter so here you go!
> 
> CW for anyone who has emetophobia--this chapter mentions vomiting, though there are NO graphic details.

After dinner with Luke and a couple of the other guys, Aidan and Dean headed home early, as they always did; their filming schedule did not allow for staying up past ten or eleven on weeknights, not if one wanted to survive the long days on set without passing out from sheer exhaustion. After pulling away from the curb outside of Luke’s house, Aidan glanced over at his boyfriend. “So, uh, you were really hot earlier,” he said hesitantly. After Dean had crowded him against the counter and gotten them both off, he had practically collapsed on the couch to sleep off his postictal fatigue, leaving them no time to talk about it.

Dean grinned a little. “Yeah? That means a lot, coming from the man who told me he fingered himself in the shower yesterday.” He looked over at Aidan, watching as the younger man carefully kept his eyes on the road, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Do you do that a lot?”

The blush slowly moving across Aidan’s face quickly bloomed into a bright red that traveled from forehead down, disappearing into his t-shirt. “Not a lot,” he muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the road in front of them so that he wouldn’t have to meet Dean’s gaze. “Just, you know, sometimes I sort of want a bit of that but like a dick would be too much, so I, uh, do it for myself.”

“You know I’m happy to just finger you without fucking, right?” Dean asked, grinning a little at the thought. “And I can rim you sometimes if you want. You love that, but I haven’t done it in forever.”

Aidan’s face somehow, impossibly, got redder. “Babe, don’t talk like that,” he groaned. “I’m way too tired tonight.”

Grinning widely, Dean just shrugged. “Tomorrow is a new day,” he replied cheerfully. “I can wait a day to give you what you need.”

“It’s not a _need_ ,” Aidan mumbled, still refusing to look at his boyfriend. “It’s just, you know, something, uh, something fun.”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” Dean said breezily. “Fine then, I’ll give you something fun that apparently isn’t a need but you do in the shower ‘cause I don’t do it. I know, I know,” he added when Aidan opened his mouth, “shutting up now.” He leaned back in his seat tiredly, still smiling a little. “I guess for tonight I’ll just make do with sharing a bed with a gorgeous man.” He sighed dramatically. “My life is so hard.”

“You’re so obnoxious,” Aidan huffed, shaking his head with a smile. “I can’t believe I date you.” His blush fading slowly, he turned onto their street, and had parked in their driveway within a minute. “I’m so fucking tired,” he muttered as he turned off the engine, wrapping his coat more tightly around himself before opening the door and exposing himself to the biting cold of winter.

Dean nodded, shivering a little even with the layers he wore as he walked quickly from the car to the door, unlocking it and getting inside as fast as he could. “Let’s just go to bed,” he suggested, hanging his coat up as his boyfriend locked the door behind them. “I don’t care how early it is.” He dropped his keys and wallet onto the small table beneath the coat hooks and toed off his shoes before slowly heading upstairs, feeling the ache not only of his strained back but also his entire body, sore from seizing earlier. Once in the bedroom, he turned to Aidan, wrapping his arms around the younger man. “I love you,” he told him in a heartfelt whisper.

“I love you too,” Aidan replied, brow creasing as he tried to figure out why Dean was suddenly so emotional. He cupped one hand over the back of the New Zealander’s head, gently rocking their bodies together in a slow, soothing rhythm. “Not that I don’t like it, babe, but what brought that on?” he asked after a few moments, unsure why Dean hadn’t spoken anything more.

“Some of today was pretty shit and hard and I just really fucking love you,” the older man mumbled, sighing against Aidan’s chest before pulling away and beginning to undress. “A lot of guys would’ve run screaming, but you called the one guy who could understand and you didn’t care that he would know what happened even though you’re so embarrassed about sex, and…”

Aidan’s fingers paused from unbuttoning his shirt. “I hadn’t even thought about that ‘til now,” he interrupted, and then blanched a little. “Oh, God, we had sex to the _Katamari_ theme. What the fuck?”

With a surprised laugh, Dean yanked his sweater the rest of the way off of his head so that he could stare at Aidan. “Seriously? That’s what you take out of this? When someone so much as hints that I walk a little funny the day after we go at it hard, you get all awkward, but Hugo comes in like twenty minutes after we fuck and I’m on the ground hard and you’re half naked and you worry that we had video game music on in the background.”

“That song is not a sexy one,” Aidan pointed out, shrugging out of his flannel shirt and tossing it into their laundry basket. “We need to wash our clothes soon,” he added, looking at the way the basket overflowed with dirty clothes. “This is my last pair of clean jeans.”

“But I’m so lazy,” Dean protested; he, too, was running out of clothes, though, and he carefully folded his jeans and sweater and put them on top of the dresser to save them for the next day. “I’ll do it tomorrow,” he promised, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

* * *

Both Dean and Aidan were exhausted by the time they returned home the following day, having worked late and not managed to get any dinner. It was half-past eight, and both wanted nothing more than to fall in bed immediately, but that was impossible. “If you start laundry, I’ll start dinner,” Dean offered, blinking hard a few times to keep himself awake.

“Deal,” Aidan answered on a yawn, and he shuffled up the stairs to do so.

In the kitchen, Dean pulled a box of dried pasta and a jar of tomato sauce out of a cabinet and put a pot of water on the stove. He would rather cook something that didn’t involve waiting for water to boil, but they hadn’t actually made it to the grocery store as planned the previous day. There were no frozen meals left to stick in the microwave, and they were even out of bread for sandwiches. “We’re going to the supermarket tomorrow,” he said loudly when he heard Aidan’s footsteps approach a couple minutes later.

“Yeah,” the younger man agreed, sinking into a chair and waiting for Dean to join him. When the New Zealander stayed at the stove, Aidan piped up, “A watched pot never boils, Deano.”

With an exhausted sigh, Dean practically fell into the other chair, leaning on Aidan as though too tired to keep himself up. “We’re going to be shitty bachelors who buy a ton of microwaveable meals because making dinner after working for, like, fifteen hours is fucking impossible.”

“I know, babe,” Aidan said sympathetically, wrapping an arm around Dean from the side. “Thanks for making something tonight,” he added, kissing the older man’s temple sweetly. “Sit up, babe.” He pushed is boyfriend off his shoulder gently before standing up. “I need some tea if I’m going to stay up long enough to finish the washing.”

Dean slumped forward on the table, head pillowed on crossed arms, and tried to convince himself that being awake was not the worst thing in the world. “Make me a cup?” he requested hopefully as the Irishman filled the kettle and then clicked it on.

“Yeah,” Aidan answered, pulling out tea and mugs. “You don’t have to stay up with me, though. You look ready to drop, and you need sleep.”

“If I’m still this tired after tea, I’ll go to bed,” Dean promised. “I had big plans for tonight, and then we got stuck on set for three more hours than we were supposed to, and I just wanted to give my boyfriend a great orgasm or two, but no, our schedule was fucked up and…”

“Breathe,” Aidan interrupted, rubbing Dean’s back with a gentle hand. “We can have sex tomorrow or, horror of horrors, wait for the fucking weekend. I know you want to prove that we can still have great sex, but, babe, I already know that, and I’m pretty sure that you falling asleep with your tongue up my arse would be a major boner killer.” He paused. “I’d probably fall asleep too, and it would be so weird to wake up like that.”

Dean smiled wanly at that. “Yeah,” he mumbled, standing up to check on the water. “Fucking boil!” he groused at it, but that didn’t help. “Remember having time to cook food that didn’t come from a box or a jar?” he said wistfully, thinking back to making sauce for pasta instead of just opening it, and grilling meat instead of just reheating it.

“I never really cooked much,” Aidan began, stepping behind his boyfriend and sliding his arms around him, “but you’ve done that in the past few weeks.”

“Shut up,” Dean said with a grin, leaning back into the Irishman’s loose embrace. “I’m complaining. I’ve been up for sixteen hours, I’m sore, and my head hurts. Let me complain.”

Aidan pressed his smiling lips to Dean’s neck and tightened his hug fondly. “At least you get to go home to an amazing boyfriend, right?” he teased. He slowly moved them a few feet to the left; even though the water was on the back burner so that Dean was unlikely to fall onto the hot coils if he seized, it was still safer to be above the countertop instead. “We could’ve gotten home earlier if you hadn’t made me shower before we came home.”

“I had to do that,” Dean muttered, turning around in Aidan’s arms to face him, leaning on the counter to support himself. “You smelled horrible, and it gave me time to shower too. Unlike _some_ people—“ he looked up at Aidan with significantly raised eyebrows “—I don’t like sitting around in my own sweat.”

With a laugh, Aidan moved away from Dean to pour water from the now-hot kettle into their mugs. He needed the caffeine too much to wait for it to steep, and he instead dipped the bags in and out of the water to make the water flow through faster. “Here,” he said softly, handing Dean a cup before starting to drink from the other one. It was so hot that it nearly burned his tongue, but he still gulped some down quickly, needing the caffeine to hit his system.

They drank in silence, too tired to carry on a conversation. By the time the pasta was finally done, sauce warmed in the microwave lazily, they had each finished off two cups of tea, but felt far from energized.

“Food,” Aidan muttered gratefully as he dug into the spaghetti on his plate. “You’re the best,” he added thickly, speaking through a mouthful as he looked over at his boyfriend.

Dean gave him a weak smile, focused more on his food and the thought of bed to actually listen to what the younger man was saying. He finished in a few short minutes; it turned out that eating dinner was remarkably quick when not being social. “That’s better,” he mumbled to himself, standing up to rinse off his plate and put it in the dishwasher, along with the pot and bowl left over from making the meal. With a quick glance at the clock, he noticed something. “The washer should be done by now, right?”

“Oh, fuck,” Aidan swore, looking up from his plate as he realized that Dean was right. “I’ll go get…”

“I can do it,” Dean interrupted, not wanting to tear Aidan from his much-needed meal. “You’re still in charge of getting it from the dryer, though, ‘cause I’m about to pass out.”

Aidan nodded. “Just go to bed after you finish with the laundry. I’ll stay up for the dryer,” he said softly, pulling Dean down gently to kiss his cheek. “I get up later than you anyway,” he added when the New Zealander looked unsure, clearly feeling guilt at the thought of leaving the late-night work to Aidan.

“Thanks,” Dean said gratefully, running a hand through his boyfriend’s hair before trudging up the stairs. Feeling like a particularly domestic zombie, he dragged himself into the large closet that housed their washer and dryer and moved their clothes from one machine or the other. He had just enough presence of mind to hit the button to start the dryer going, but did not manage to brush his teeth or even remove a single article of clothing before he tumbled into bed, falling asleep without a moment’s pause.

When he came up the stairs fifteen minutes later, book in hand, Aidan looked at his boyfriend and sighed. The older man hadn’t even taken his shoes off, so the Irishman made quick work of them—he wanted Dean to sleep comfortably, yes, but moreover he really didn’t want the sheets of their shared bed to get dirty. He used the wait for the dryer to change into pajama pants, brush his teeth, and wash his face, so that he, unlike Dean, would be ready for bed by the time he finally collapsed into it.

* * *

“Jesus,” Aidan muttered, leaning over toward James the next day. “It’s fucking cold in here.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I’m boiling,” he informed his younger friend. “You okay?” he added, looking closely at the other man. “You’re looking a bit peaky, mate. If you’re feeling cold and sweating this much, you might be running a temperature.” He looked over his shoulder at Peter, who was clearly in a deep conversation with one of the set designers. “Let’s get you over to the med tent to get your temperature taken.” He half-dragged his sluggish friend toward the little medical area beneath a canopy. “Hey, this fuck seems sick. Got a thermometer for him?”

With a bit of a smile, the set physician pulled out her miniature medical kit. “You are looking a little ill,” she said, putting a plastic cover on the thermometer and popping into the Irishman’s mouth. When it beeped, she pulled it out and looking at the reading, frowning a little. “38.5,” she told him. “Darling, you need to head home. I’ll talk to Peter for you.” She looked at him seriously. “You need to take your own temperature after a few hours, because if it gets a degree higher, you should see a doctor.” She shooed him away to hair, wardrobe and makeup so that he could de-dwarf and get home.

After he had been in the wardrobe area for a few minutes, slowly taking off his many layers of costume, Aidan heard the door open and he turned and saw his boyfriend walking in. “You probably shouldn’t come too close,” he mumbled tiredly. “I’m apparently sick.”

“I know, babe,” Dean replied, smiling a little in sympathy. “I just wanted to see how you’re feeling. I think we’re going to film around you for a while, but we might get off early without you around. I’ll ask someone to drive me home. Do you need anything that I can get on the way?” he asked, running a gentle hand through the younger man’s hair.

Aidan shook his head, clearly exhausted. “I think I’m just going to sleep for a few hours. I should feel better after that.” He paused, realizing that Dean was, frankly, more of an adult than he was. “Is there a thermometer in the house?”

“Medicine cabinet, top shelf,” Dean answered. “Text me if your temperature gets up past 39, okay? I’ll get someone to take you to the doctor if it gets too high, okay? Just go and sleep and drink a lot of fluids.”

“I will,” Aidan replied, clearly exhausted as he peeled the rest of his costume off and shuffled into his street clothes. “I’ll see you tonight, hon.” He leaned in a little to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek, but thought better of it; he didn’t want to infect Dean with whatever the hell he had. “I’ll probably sleep on the couch, though,” he said before he left, heading to the car to get himself home.

Sighing, Dean headed back to the set they were currently working on and sidled up to James. “Thanks for making Aid go to the med tent,” he said softly. “I was all over the place this morning and didn’t notice how sick he was.”

“I only noticed because he told me he was cold when it’s hot as hell in here,” Jimmy answered, shrugging. “Poor kid was trying to hide it so he wouldn’t mess up filming.” He shook his head. “Not his brightest idea. He’s sweet, but not the smartest guy…” He laughed when Dean jabbed him in the side with a sharp elbow. “I’m kidding, O’Gorman. Your boyfriend is smart and wonderful and perfect and I’m sure he’s beautiful naked and everything.”

“Oh, God, Jimmy, every word that comes out of your mouth makes it worse,” Dean groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you dare think about my boyfriend naked,” he added with a playful glare. “Aren’t you straight?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I can’t notice that Aidan is clearly a good-looking man.”

Mark popped up next to them. “God, he’s so beautiful. I hate him for it.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Dean muttered, sticking his tongue out petulantly as the other men laughed. “I’m tragically disabled by epilepsy, you can’t laugh at me,” he deadpanned, but that just made the other two laugh harder. “You both suck,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he walked away to find out the rest of the day’s filming schedule.

As opposed to their usual ending time of late evening, they were released at four o’clock. Dean hated that he thought it, but he was a little glad that Aidan’s fever had gotten them an early day, because he could seriously use the sleep. “Ads,” he said, jumping on the chance to get a ride when the Englishman got out of wardrobe at the same time as him, “can I have a ride home?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Adam replied, barely noticing what Dean had asked; as one of the young New Zealander’s closer friends, he was accustomed to driving him places and neither minded nor batted an eyelash when asked. “Has Aid texted you about how he’s feeling?”

Dean shook his head, glancing at his phone for the fifth time in as many minutes to check if he had somehow missed a message from his boyfriend. “Thanks,” he said gratefully as he slid into Adam’s passenger seat. “I know it’s last minute, but this idiot I live with decided to come to work even though he’s sick.”

Adam shrugged. “It’s not a problem. You live, like, two minutes away from me, mate. It doesn’t take any extra effort for me to drop you off.” He hit the power button on his stereo to start playing the CD that was already in there, and the ride passed amicably with no noise except the music.

They bade each other goodbye at the end of Dean and Aidan’s driveway, and the older man walked the short distance into his house as the younger drove away. “Aid?” he called out as he locked the door behind him. “Where are you, babe? Slash, are you awake?” He walked a little further in and saw a miserable looking Aidan on the couch, curled in a blanket with his eyes glued to the television and a glass of orange juice on the side table.

“I feel fucking terrible,” Aidan groaned, looking up at his boyfriend with sad eyes. “Please save me from this goddamn virus or whatever it is.”

“What’s your temperature?” Dean asked, pressing the back of his hand against his boyfriend’s forehead. “You feel pretty damn warm,” he commented, looking around for the thermometer. “Have you taken your temperature at all?”

Aidan nodded. “I’m just below 39,” he answered. “The doctor on set told me I need to go to the doctor if it gets to 39.5.” He sighed, flopping back on the couch. “Who the hell did I get this from?”

With a sympathetic smile, Dean sat down next to his boyfriend and stroked a hand through his hair, trying not to wince at the sweat he could practically feel in it. “How about I heat some soup up for you?” he suggested. “That’s supposed to make it all better, right?” When Aidan nodded, he stood up. “Give me a few minutes,” he said, suddenly very glad that they had gotten a few cans of chicken soup when they were last at the grocery store.

Frankly, Dean didn’t have the patience to heat the soup on the stove, and he instead poured half a can into a bowl and stuck it in the microwave. When it was warm, he stirred it to even out the temperature and took it to his ailing boyfriend. “Still awake?” he asked quietly, seeing Aidan’s curly-haired head tilted to the side as he approached from behind.

“Yeah,” came a pitiful voice. Dean was pretty sure that was put on, but he still felt bad for him.

“Okay, love, here’s some soup,” the older man said, pressing the bowl into Aidan’s hands and plopping down next to him. He sort of wanted to create some germ barrier, but there wasn’t room. “Are you… are you watching _Shortland Street_?” he asked incredulously. “You won’t watch the show I’m in but you’ll watch a soap opera?” he added with a little grin.

Aidan swallowed a mouthful of soup audibly before answering. “Fuck you, I’m sick,” he muttered. “I’m too tired to push the buttons to change the channel.”

“Oh my God,” Dean said, looking over at the younger man. “You are a complete wimp when you get sick.” He shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “Good thing I love you, because if you keep this up for a few days it’s going to get old pretty quick.”

“You’re the worst,” Aidan groaned, flailing one arm over to the side to try to gently hit his boyfriend. He wasn’t looking, though, so he mostly ended up just flopping his hand in the air. “I’m horribly, life-threateningly ill, and you…”

Dean couldn’t stop the snort that came from his mouth. “Babe, I adore you and I feel bad that you’re sick, but, Aid, it’s a fever, not cancer. Just lie down and sleep, okay?” He paused. “But let me take your temperature, ‘cause you look like you’re burning up.” He reached over to the table and grabbed the thermometer and stuck it into the younger man’s mouth, eliciting a surprised gasp. After it beeped a minute later, he pulled it out and read it. “It’s 39.6,” he said worriedly, pulling out his phone to look up what temperature was considered dangerous for adults. “Okay, the Mayo Clinic says that’s getting into dangerous territory for adults.” He frowned. “That information would be a lot more helpful if I knew what to do about dangerous territory fevers. I’ll call the set doc, okay?” He scrolled through his contacts, unable to remember what name he had saved their physicians under. He eventually found her under ‘Doctor—Set—Important” and pressed the little phone icon to call her. After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned back to Aidan. “Guess who’s going to A and E if he starts throwing up or hits 40 degrees?” he said, attempting to be cheerful. “You. You’re going to the hospital if that happens.”

“Bollocks,” Aidan mumbled.

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna throw up.”

* * *

It was sort of weird, Dean realized, to be in A and E and _not_ be the one being treated. “Hey, thanks for driving,” he said to Richard, though he was a little distracted trying to rub his boyfriend’s back soothingly as the younger man leaned forward in the bed and continued to vomit into the weird blue bag that the nurse had thrust into his hands. “Especially with the… spewing.”

“No problem,” the Brit replied. “He really needs to be here, and he obviously can’t drive himself to the hospital like that.”

“It’s hard to drive and vomit at the same time,” Aidan groaned, managing to sit up a little as his body finally stopped expelling the contents of his stomach through his mouth. “And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“See, I _do_ have a life-threatening illness.”

Dean rolled his eyes privately at Richard, who smiled back sympathetically. “Babe, the doctor’ll be back soon and you’ll be better, okay?” He sat down on the edge of the bed and wrapped an arm around Aidan’s shoulders. “Just relax and stop telling yourself you’re going to die of this fever-vomit combo.”

“He’s right,” said a doctor as he swooped into the room in that efficient manner of doctors working the A and E. “You probably have some bad food poisoning. Have you eaten anything that your friends haven’t? Have any of your friends been sick?”

“I ate some leftovers yesterday and didn’t share them with Dean,” Aidan rasped, his voice wrecked from vomiting for the past hour or so. He was pretty sure he was out of anything left to throw up, and he had an IV line going into an arm for fluids so he wasn’t going to drink anything more to come up.

“We’ll run a few blood tests to be sure it’s nothing else,” the doctor said, “but we’ll keep you here overnight to make sure you don’t dehydrate and to keep that fever down, even if it is just the food poisoning.”

Dean petted through Aidan’s hair gently. “See? Not dying,” he whispered soothingly. “You just need a lot of rest and fluids. I’ll sleep in this chair and…”

“He’s going to be admitted into the main hospital, and I’m afraid we can only let family stay the night,” the doctor said apologetically. “Judging by your accents, you aren’t related. Also, uh, judging by your closeness,” he added with a little smile. “I’m really sorry, but you’ll have to leave at ten and not come back until eight tomorrow morning.”

“We could be married,” Aidan protested.

“Are you?”

“No.”

With a sigh, Dean shook his head. “I don’t know if I can get off work tomorrow,” he told Aidan. “I’ll see what I can do, though, okay? I’ll call Peter now and figure something out, yeah?” He ducked out of the room, already getting his phone out of his pocket to call.

“Rich?” Aidan groaned as both Dean and the doctor left the room.

The older man looked over, giving Aidan an encouraging nod to keep going.

“If I’m stuck here over night, can you check on Dean somehow? You don’t have to stay or anything, but maybe just call him before work to make sure nothing happened?”

Richard nodded. “I’ll call him, but he’s probably not going to be happy about it,” he pointed out. “He doesn’t mind you seeing if anything happened all night because you’re in the same house and… same bed, I guess, I don’t know all these things about your relationship. It’s pretty intrusive for a regular friend to just call and ask if you had seizures all night.”

“I know, but he’s had some dangerous ones before and some problems lately,” Aidan said in a bit of a small voice. “I’m just really worried about him, and it’s not like he needs a babysitter but with how much he’s hit his head in the past month it’s a big thing and I…”

“Don’t worry,” Richard interrupted in a soothing, calm voice. “I’ll talk to him about it and make sure he’s comfortable. Dean’s pretty easygoing and…”

“Talk to Dean about what?” Dean asked as he came back into the room, one eyebrow raised. It was well-established how much he disliked decisions about or including him being made without him.

Aidan looked up. “I’m just worried, ‘cause I’m going to be in the hospital all night and you’ll be at home, and you…”

“Need a babysitter?” Dean interrupted, looking mutinous.

“Not a babysitter,” Aidan protested. “You’ve had a couple really bad seizures lately and if Richard calls you in the morning to make sure you’re okay and ready for work. Look, it’s not a patronizing thing, I just need to know you’re safe because I’m sick and feel anxious enough without staying up all night thinking about you seizing and maybe you stop breathing or something.”

Dean sat next to Aidan on the bed again. “Okay, babe, I’ll talk to Richard in the morning and I’ll get someone to bring me at the start of visiting hours. PJ said he’ll shoot some specific stuff with the other dwarves or the elves and stuff.” He smiled a little and kissed his boyfriend’s sweaty forehead. “God, you feel even hotter than before. I’m going to grab a nurse, okay?”

* * *

Dean was pretty sure he had never in his life felt fear like when the doctors dragged his boyfriend away to sink him in a bathtub full of ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the wonderful InkyStar contributed to my fundraiser for my racing wheelchair, they asked for hurt Aidan and y'all know I don't half-ass things. On the other hand, I know this is sort of a rough ending so the next chapter will be up really soon, I promise.


	35. Hospital: Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually written most of this chapter before posting this one, but a couple suggestions in the comments prompted this rewrite :) I hope you like it!

“Dean? Dean, have you fucking slept?”

It was four in the morning, and, no, Dean _hadn’t_ slept because Aidan could be dying and he was in the waiting room, but whoever the hell was talking to him in that tone, like they had some sort of right to be worried for him, needed to shut the fuck… “Jared?”

“Yeah, it’s me, you left me three increasingly hysterical messages so I drove here and I have been in a car for eight fucking hours, so you tell me if you goddamn slept,” Jared growled, dropping into the chair next to Dean and looking nearly as exhausted as the other man. He leaned a little over toward the blond, just to show some sort of solidarity and sympathy.

All the fight leaving him, Dean shook his head, practically falling sideways into his friend as he let his exhaustion flow through him. “I haven’t,” he mumbled. “I can’t,” he added brokenly. “What if he’s dying back there? Jared, I love that guy and he’s really fucking sick and I…”

“Shh,” Jared hushed softly, wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulders and letting him freak out. “I don’t know if Aidan’s okay, and saying that I know he’ll be fine would be a lie and we both know it, but, Dean, mate, lying here awake isn’t going to help anything. You’re going to have a seizure from exhaustion and stress and you’ll be out of commission and not there when he needs you.”

Dean shook his head. “I know, okay? I wasn’t kidding when I told you I _can’t_ sleep. I’ve tried.” He groaned softly. “I’ve never been in a hospital without being the sick one, and I have no idea what to do. How do you guys fucking survive this?” he asked, looking up at Jared’s tired face.

“This is different,” Jared answered slowly, choosing his words carefully to be honest without freaking Dean out. “When you’re in here, we know what it is and that the doctors are treating the symptoms, like a concussion, and not the cause. You don’t know anything more than Aidan’s symptoms, and he’s your boyfriend. That’s a different type of stress.” He sighed quietly. “Dean, please just try to sleep. I’ll be right here.” When the blond looked doubtful, he slid his hand into his pocket. “Xanax,” he said, pressing a pill into the other man’s hand. “Take it.”

“What if they have to tell me something and I’m asleep?” Dean asked, holding the pill but not bringing it to his lips. “Jared, I can’t do this, I need to be here…”

Jared turned in his seat and pushed Dean into a more sleep-ready position. “I will stay up for any news. If they come in to say anything, I’ll wake you up, and then I’ll sleep it off in the morning when you get up.” He stood up now that Dean was support his own weight. “I’ll get you some water for that pill, okay?”

He had barely gotten halfway to the water cool on the other side of the Intensive Care waiting room when he heard a sickening, painfully familiar noise: that of Dean’s head hitting the hard ground as he fell. “Shit!” Abandoning his quest for water, Jared rushed back to his friend’s side. “He has epilepsy, it’s fine, this happens…” he began as a nurse rushed over, but he stopped when he noticed blood on the floor. “No, not fine, he’s bleeding from his head somewhere, that’s bad, I’ve never seen this…”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to move away,” a second nurse said softly, pulling him away with a gentle but firm touch. “We need you to move so we can help him,” she added, guiding him to a chair before joining the other nurse on the floor. “He needs an anticonvulsant,” she said to her colleague.

“I already paged for a doctor,” the other nurse replied, jamming a jacket under the blond man’s head. “He looks to be 170, 175 centimeters, muscular but still pretty small… I don’t feel comfortable guessing his weight.” He looked up as hurried footsteps approached. “Dr. Hema,” he said as way of greeting. “His friend says he has epilepsy, but he hit his head on the way down and his breathing is shallow and intermittent.”

Dr. Hema crouched down, leaning an ear down to listen to the seizing man’s breathing. He had just sat back up when the small man went limp. “Let’s look for the head wound,” he instructed the nurses, getting some help moving the blond head in order to find the source of the bleeding. “Can you get some patient history from his friend?” he asked one nurse, and then turned to the other. “Get a bed over here, please. We need to admit him.”

The female nurse quickly walked to the front desk and returned with a clipboard to sit next to Jared. “We’re going to take good care of your friend,” she said soothingly, “but we need to get as much history as we can.” She began to ask questions, carefully drawing the brunet’s attention as his friend was loaded onto a bed and taken back into the hospital itself.

When Jared was left alone a half-hour later, he had no idea what to do. _What a fucking mess_ , he thought, pulling out his phone to see if he had numbers for any of the New Zealanders in the _Hobbit_ cast.

“It’s nearly five in the morning, and we aren’t that close,” was how Manu answered the phone. “I had another half-hour to sleep before I have to leave for set, so this better be good.”

“I know what time it is, I’m really sorry,” Jared said hastily. “You’re the only number from the _Hobbit_ cast I have in my phone other than Dean, and that fuck got himself admitted to the hospital and I felt like I should tell someone. So… that someone is you. Congratulations, Manu, you won the fucked-up morning lottery.”

Now paying full attention, Manu sat up in bed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he turned on the light. “Okay, I’m not mad at you for calling now. Why don’t… shouldn’t his boyfriend be dealing with this?”

“Yeah, he’s in the hospital too,” Jared replied. “Dean stayed up all night, worrying himself into a goddamn seizure, which caused a head injury, and I feel like I am not the only person who should be dealing with this.”

Manu sighed quietly. “I’ll call a couple people and make sure someone comes over to the hospital,” he promised. “Text me if anything major changes, okay?” When he got an affirmative answer, he hung up and began to call people he worked with.

* * *

Dean groaned as he woke up with a giant headache, blinking against bright lights. “Jared?” he mumbled, trying to look past all the blinding light to find his friend. “I…” He stopped talking, feeling someone around his mouth. He jerked up a hand and reached for his face, but someone gripped his wrist quickly.

“You’re in the hospital,” came a soothing voice from his right side. “You hit your head during a grand mal seizure in the waiting room, and your breathing stopped intermittently, and was weak the entire time. We’ve got an oxygen mask on you, and we pushed some sedatives while we stitched up your head wound. You’ve been unconscious for about two hours.”

“How’s…” Dean started tiredly. “My friend, I came in with him last night and I need to know how he is,” he explained in a rough voice. “And my, my other friend, he was in the waiting room with me and I need to call my work ‘cause I’m late already and…”

The nurse next to him made a quiet soothing noise. “Your friend in the waiting room called some other people, and you’ve got a couple people there now for a while. I’m sure they’ve called your work to explain things to them. I’ll let them know that you’re awake, and maybe someone can come back to talk to you a bit.”

Dean nodded, absolutely exhausted, and was a little surprised when the person who came into the room wasn’t Jared, but Adam. “Hey,” he rasped, wondering vaguely when he’d last had something to drink.

“You and Aidan are trying to drive us all into early graves, aren’t you?” the Englishman said, perching on the side of his friend’s bed. When Dean opened his mouth, he held up his hand. “I’ve tried checking up on Aidan. He signed off on you as a contact who can get medical information last night, but I can’t get any information about him. Let’s talk to the nurse to see if we can get you into a wheelchair and over to Aid’s room?”

It took a bit of begging and a few tears on Dean’s part, but he was finally allowed to go to Aidan’s room, pushed in a wheelchair by an orderly, to meet his doctor. “Babe,” he whispered softly, seeing his pale boyfriend on the bed, attached to an absurd number of machines, all of which beeped and blinked constantly.

“He had meningitis,” the doctor explained quietly, “It can cause dangerous fevers, though his was fast. The ice bath probably saved him from brain damage—“

“Probably?” Dean repeated hysterically.

The doctor nodded. “I can’t promise anything. We won’t know until he wakes up. He’s under sedation while his medications take effect, but he should regain consciousness later today. Meningitis often causes hearing loss, but, again, we’ll see when he wakes up. I’m sorry, but it’s going to be a lot of waiting today. He listed you for medical decisions if he were unable to make any himself, so you’ll be able to stay in here for as long as your doctor allows.”

Dean waited until the doctor left the room before he started crying, dropping his head to rest on the bed next to Aidan’s limp hand. “If you have brain damage, I’m going to be really mad at you,” he whispered through the tears. “Not as mad as I’ll be if you don’t wake up, though,” he added quietly. “Like, if we were rating them from most desirable outcome to least desirable, it would be you wake up same as before, you wake up with brain damage, and then, way below that, you don’t wake up. So, look, I know I’m hysterical, but I’d appreciate you waking up,” he finished tiredly, not sure what he was even saying anymore.

Sadly, this was not a romantic comedy, or any other sort of movie, and Aidan didn’t wake up to hear his heartfelt words. Instead, the younger man’s eyes stayed firmly shut and his breathing remained shallow.

“Dammit, Aidan,” Dean muttered. “Please just wake the fuck up.”

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but Dean woke up a couple hours later when a nurse shook his shoulder gently. “Sir, we’ve got some lunch for you,” she said softly. “We’re going to let you stay here, but you need to get in a better chair.” She led him to a padded lounger a couple feet away and made sure he was seated comfortably before rolling a small table up to him, his lunch tray already upon it. “Use your call button if you need anything, okay?” she said, putting the call button on the arm of the chair before leaving.

Dean picked at his food, not really feeling hungry. “It’s kind of lonely doing this alone,” he said quietly. “It’d be better if you woke up. We could eat together, instead of me sitting here talking to an unconscious man like a fucking weirdo.” He sighed. “I wonder where my phone is,” he said after a little time passed in silence. “I tried to call your parents a couple times, but I only have their home number and I guess they were both out. They’ve probably tried to call me back, but I don’t have my phone.” With nothing left to say, he began to eat in tiny bites.

It was nearly five when Dean finally heard a noise from the bed. It was a tiny noise, one of movement rather than speech, but it had the older man launching himself out of his chair and to the bed. “Aidan?” he whispered, reaching for his boyfriend’s hand. “Aid, are you awake?”

“I…” Aidan started, but lapsed into coughing before he could complete his sentence.

Dean pushed the call button before leaning over the bed to kiss Aidan’s cheek. “You’re awake,” he whispered, feeling tears of relief welling up. “You’re finally awake.”

“What happened?” Aidan rasped, his left hand squeezing Dean’s weakly. “I feel like I got run over by a train.”

The older man paused before answering. “Meningitis, dangerous fever, ice bath, drugs, sedation, I got a head wound… things have been busy.”

“You got a head wound?”

“That’s what you got from that? You are being medicated for meningitis and you’re worried about my head wound?”

Aidan shrugged. “A head wound is worse than a fever.”

“Not a fever like yours!”

The younger man’s doctor stepped in along with a nurse, effectively ending their bickering. “Your fever was very severe, Mr. Turner. You were delirious last night, but we had to put you into a bathtub of ice to cool you down to try to prevent any brain damage. We’re going to be running a full battery of neurological and audiological tests all day, I’m afraid,” the doctor said, standing at the foot of Aidan’s bed. “First, let’s note your vitals and see how you’re doing physically.”

Aidan was silent as the man moved around him, noting down readings from the machines and listening to his heart and lungs manually as well. “Can I… can I have water?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, but start slowly,” the doctor answered, nodding to the nurse, who left to get it. “If you drink too fast, you might vomit.” He smiled. “Your temperature is down to normal, Mr. Turner, which is a very good thing. You gave us all a scare. I’ll send in a neurologist to do some testing with you, okay?”

The Irishman nodded, but looked over toward his boyfriend worriedly. Once the doctor had left the room, he turned fully towards Dean. “Brain damage?” he said in a small voice.

“ _Possible_ brain damage,” Dean responded, perching himself on the edge of Aidan’s bed to better talk with him. “They just have to test you, babe, but you’re awake and talking and that’s really good.” He scooted himself around a little to lie down, squished up against his boyfriend’s side. “They got you into that ice bath as soon as they knew your fever got too high, and they noticed that as soon as you started getting delirious.” With a quivering sigh, he pressed his lips to the younger man’s temple. “I’m so fucking glad you woke up, babe. I thought that…” He refused to finish the thought.

“Let’s talk about that head wound now,” Aidan said, switching the subject as Dean’s voice got tight and upset.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he was grateful that Aidan was distracting him from the terrifying ‘what-ifs’ bouncing around in his head. “I couldn’t sleep all night, and between that and stress I had a seizure in the waiting room and cracked my head on the ground. No concussion,” he assured the concerned brunet, “I just got a cut and needed a few stitches. They put me out to sleep off the postictal shit while they stitched it up, and let me come in here when I woke up.”

Before Aidan could respond, the neurologist came into the room. “Okay, Mr. Turner, if you can bear with me, we’re going to do a lot of tests,” she said, pulling up a chair so that she could sit. She opened up her large binder and pulled out a stack of cards with drawings on them. “Can you arrange these to tell a story for me?” she asked.

Swallowing audibly, terrified that he would be unable to do this and have some sort of brain damage, Aidan reached out a shaking hand and shuffled the pictures around to examine them closely before putting them in an order. Woman and Boy go into store. Boy rides in car with Woman. Boy hugs Dog. Boy and Woman ride home in car with Dog. Boy sees Dog.

“Okay, good job,” the doctor said, standing up to look over Aidan’s shoulder at the cards. “I’m afraid I eased you in with a fun one, because the next ones are all pretty boring.” She held a finger out in front of his face. “Touch your nose and then touch my finger.”

Aidan complied gamely, look less and less stressed as the tests continued and he didn’t seem to be failing. He even managed to name six animals that began with the letter s (snake, snail, salamander, sheep, stork, and seagull), which was more than Dean could imagine doing. “Am I okay?” he asked quietly at the end.

“You’ve done very well,” his doctor answered, smiling. “I’d like to see you again next week, though, because there were a couple things that were a bit off. Now don’t worry,” she added quickly, seeing both men starting to look panicked. “Your results were mostly very good, but your story test had a little bit out of order. I think you’re just exhausted and recovering, but I need to be sure. Keep in mind, most people who ‘fail’ that test,” she added, making air quotes, “can’t put together any sort of story at all.” She patted his arm gently. “I’ll give my notes to your doctor, but I think you’re going to be just fine,” she told him and then left the room, shutting the door behind herself.

Aidan looked over at his boyfriend. “I have brain damage.”

“No, you apparently put a few shitty drawings in the wrong order,” Dean said firmly. “That was literally your only mistake. I could only think of three ‘s’ animals, and you named six.” He got back up on the bed next to Aidan, having moved for the duration of the neurological tests. “You’re hearing everything fine, and I think hearing is usually what meningitis affects. That’s a good sign, right?”

Groaning, Aidan flopped back into his pillows. “How the fuck did I get meningitis?” he asked, taking out his frustration at messing up his neurological test in the form of anger. “Everyone else if fucking fine, but Aidan goes and gets meningitis and almost dies.”

“Almost,” Dean repeated softly. “Almost, babe. You’re alive and okay. You need to get to sleep again, okay? I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, the suggestions from the comments were for Dean to seize (which obviously makes sense) and go into A and E as well. I had him not, but a) people thought it would be interesting, and b) it's more realistic than him not seizing while sleep deprived and stressed


	36. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never had meningitis, so this is literally the least realistic portray possible. I know you don't go home soon after it, because it's a serious freaking illness. However, I was unsure how to write the hospital stuff. Anyway, yay, here's a chapter!

Aidan was released on Thursday morning after just two nights in the hospital. The second one had only been required because the hospital required a night in the regular ward after being in intensive care. Peter had called him to inform him that he was under no circumstances allowed to come back to work until Monday, and so he curled up on the couch as soon as he was home and pulled out a book. He didn’t want to fuck up the story test again, and he thought reading might help him work on the skills. A residual headache prevented him from getting past the first page, leading him to put the book down and simply sleep.

By the time noon came around, he was extremely grateful for the fact he and Dean had decided to fill the freezer with microwavable meals. Despite the way he and Dean laughed about it, Aidan actually _could_ cook, but only a few things, and he did not have the energy to so. He had just gotten a lasagna into the microwave and hit the start button when his phone started to ring.

“Yeah?” he mumbled tiredly.

“Hey, babe,” Dean said quietly, the sounds of set audible under his voice. “How are you feeling?”

Aidan made a so-so noise. “I slept a lot,” he explained. “My head still hurts. I’m heating up some lasagna right now.” He stared into the microwave, watching the lighted box as his dish spun around slowly inside.

“Do you need anything?” the older man asked. “I think PJ’s letting some dwarves go early, since we don’t have you to round out group scenes. I should be home for dinner at six or so, instead of being late as hell. Do you want me to pick something up for you?”

“No,” Aidan answered after a moment. “I’m just exhausted and lonely, so come home when you can, okay?” When Dean answered affirmatively, Aidan smiled wanly. “I love you. I’ll see you tonight.” He hung up when his boyfriend answered similarly, and then went back to watching his food cook. With exhaustion creeping back into him, he took his lasagna out when it was only lukewarm and ate it quickly so that he could collapse back onto the couch and sleep away the afternoon.

Dean returned home at ten minutes past six, which was absurdly early by their standards. When he came into their house, he found Aidan asleep on the couch with his laptop playing music quietly next to him. Careful to stay quiet and let the other man sleep for a while longer, Dean moved into the kitchen and began to search through the cabinets and fridge for the ingredients of a real meal. After all he had been through, Aidan deserved an honest-to-God home cooked meal. It was a bit hard to think of a meal that wasn’t just spaghetti for the millionth time, but he eventually realized that they had a frozen pizza crust, and he set about making a homemade pizza, putting on some prosciutto that he had gotten on impulse at the grocery store, as well as a chopped-up green pepper. Satisfied with his creation, he put it in the oven once it was heated and set a timer before wandering back to check on Aidan.

“Hey, babe,” Dean whispered, sitting down on the couch by Aidan’s feet and gently rubbing his hip to wake him slowly. “How’s your head?” he asked as his boyfriend slowly sat up.

Aidan shrugged, blinking hard a couple times as he woke up. “Okay,” he answered after a few moments of silence. “I slept almost all day. I tried reading, because I don’t want to fail that story test again, but I couldn’t get past a the first page,” he admitted, and then stopped talking to yawn.

“Babe, you didn’t ‘fail’ the test, remember?” Dean said, gently but firmly. “You were tired and scared and you messed up a couple pictures. I’ll do some doodles for you to practice on later, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Really?” Aidan asked, smiling a little and cuddling in close to his boyfriend.

Dean nodded, wrapping his arm tightly around the younger man. “Of course. I can draw out a couple simple stories, cut ‘em up into different pieces, and you can arrange ‘em. Not tonight, though,” he added. “You still need to sleep some more and get rid of the headache.” He kissed Aidan’s temple, both expressing affection and subtly checking the brunet’s temperature, which was, thankfully, normal to the touch. “Think you’re awake enough to eat some dinner?” he asked softly, dragging gentle fingers through the younger man’s curly hair.

The Irishman nodded. “Yeah. I’ll probably go to bed after, though.”

“Good. You need the sleep.”

* * *

Friday, Aidan actually felt awake, which, while heartening in terms of his recovery, left him feeling lonely and bored. Scared of failing to understand correctly, he didn’t open his book again and instead sat on the couch with an X-Box controller, playing a James Bond game. On the plus side, he decided, if he did have brain damage, it didn’t affect his ability to virtually shoot villainous henchmen.

Still, video games could only keep his attention for so long, and he was bored to tears, watching _Batman and Robin_ on Netflix, because somehow he had decided that watching that terrible film was a great idea, when Dean came home—early again, just 6:00. “ _Ice_ to see you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dean said, rolling his eyes and smiling. “Why are you watching that?” He kicked off his shoes by the door and hung his coat up before sitting down next to his boyfriend and giving him a kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Aidan answered with an honest smile. “I’ve stayed awake all day and my head doesn’t hurt. My only problem is that it’s really fucking lonely being here all day without you. I’m used to being around a ton of people all week and then around you all weekend, and I’ve been in the hospital and then here alone for days. I talked to myself while I made lunch, Dean. It’s a low point.”

Dean laughed, leaning forward and hitting the spacebar to pause the awful movie that his boyfriend was watching. “What do you want for dinner?” he asked, leaning against the younger man comfortably. He knew that it was a little ridiculous, but he needed to feel the warmth and secure pressure of Aidan against him, living and breathing.

“I’m fine with anything,” Aidan answered. “I can stick some beef and vegetables in the microwave if you could draw me those pictures you were talking about,” he added hopefully.

“Sounds great, babe,” Dean said, grabbing a notebook and pen from the table as Aidan got up. He tore a few sheets into quarters and began to draw simple stories for his boyfriend, with five pieces of paper per story. It was relaxing, in a way, to just come up with easy, childlike stories told entirely by little illustrations. He only had time to do three little stories before dinner was ready, and he went to the kitchen with the papers in his hand, smiling. “Okay, I’ve got a couple stories for you to try after we eat, babe. _If_ ,” he added, looking at his boyfriend seriously, “you promise to be calm about it and not freak out if you have trouble.” Aidan nodded, clearly more focused on food than on what Dean was saying, which, the older man realized, probably meant that the brunet was pretty calm about it after all.

Aidan prodded Dean into telling him about the past couple days on set over dinner, and they ate slowly, finally having time to spend comfortably together after so many days of stress, exhaustion, and general apartness. The younger man cleared up the dishes, insisting that he had spent all day lazing about while Dean had actually worked, and then dragged him into the living room along with his doodled stories. “I can do this, right?” he muttered, half to himself and half to the older man.

“Right,” Dean repeated, relaxing on the couch and patting the cushion next to him to prompt Aidan to sit with him. “Stop worrying about it, Aid. Stress isn’t going to make it any easier, so just sit down and try one.” He grinned when the younger man sat as directed and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll give you whatever you want if you do these for me,” he whispered, running a hand over Aidan’s thigh.

“You should’ve drawn a porn one,” the Irishman muttered, but he was smiling and looking far more relaxed than he had just a few moments before. “I’d be great at the porn one. There could be sex, pizza delivery, uh… prep? There isn’t a lot of story to porn, I guess.”

Dean grinned, directing Aidan’s attention to the first of the little sets of drawings that he had placed on the coffee table before relaxing back into the couch to let the younger man do his work.

Aidan picked through the pictures slowly, wanting to be sure he did it right. He liked Dean’s drawings better than the ones at the hospital; they were cute, and even before he started trying to organize them he felt like they would tell a better story than that damn dog one. The drawings in the first story looked suspiciously like themselves, cartoony little men, one with dark, curly hair and an even smaller one with blond hair. Pictures showed them holding hands, shaking hands, kissing, exchanging what looked like CDs, and on a plane. “You are fucking adorable,” he muttered, seeing Dean’s grin out of the corner of his eye before starting to organize the pictures. He still felt a bit confused by making a story, but he moved his hands with purpose, because going slow would mean he couldn’t do it and that would mean that meningitis had completely fucked him up and he couldn’t bear the thought. “Done!”

Smiling, Dean sat up straight and gave Aidan a kiss before he looked down at the story his boyfriend had created. “So, I, uh, read online that sometimes the test includes telling the story you made. Do you want to do that?” he asked; he had looked up the picture arrangement test during lunch break to get an idea of what the hell he was supposed to draw for his boyfriend.

Aidan shook his head nervously. “Let’s just start with this,” he said, gesturing at the drawings he had arranged into a small story.

Dean looked down. The first picture was of them kissing, the second was of them on a plane, the third was of them shaking hands, the fourth was of them holding hands, and, lastly, the fifth was of them exchanging CDs. “Aidan,” he said softly, not sure how to start. “What’s the story you made here?”

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Aidan said, lip trembling a little. “I didn’t know what to do so I put this stuff here and I know it’s us and what we’re doing but I couldn’t figure out what you wanted the story to be and…”

“Shh,” Dean whispered, pulling Aidan close to his chest. “It’s okay. This is the first day you’ve been really awake, and you nearly died less than 72 hours ago. You’re going to be a little fuzzy for a while, but that doesn’t mean you’ve got brain damage.” He took a deep breath. “If you do and the only thing that’s affected is your ability to put events in the right order, that’s okay,” he added quietly. “Is it just pictures? Can you tell me how we got together, just in words?”

Aidan shrugged helplessly. “I know that all those things you drew happened,” he explained slowly. “I remember all of them. I remember giving you a CD of music I like, and feeling embarrassed, but I can’t figure out if that happened before or after we kissed that one time in the makeup trailer. I remember a ton of times we had sex but I don’t know which is the first.” He buried his face in the middle of the older man’s chest and started to cry. “It’s not okay and it isn’t something small.”

“Go ahead and cry, baby,” Dean whispered, rubbing slow circles over his boyfriend’s back to soothe him. “I know it’s scary. It might be acute and go away later, but either way it’s terrifying. You have every right to cry.” He didn’t think Aidan needed to stop, didn’t want to pretend everything as okay. He knew the terror of knowing that something was wrong, and it was awful. No amount of ‘help’ from other people could make things right.

Aidan shivered a little against Dean, oddly glad that the older man wasn’t offering words of false comfort. “How can I go back to work on Monday like this?” he asked in a broken voice.

Unable to help himself, Dean snorted. “That’s your biggest worry?” he asked, rolling his eyes a bit. “Sweetie, you know what we’ll do if you’re still having trouble on Sunday? We’ll call the hospital so you can get more tests, and tell Peter you’re doing follow-up stuff. He’ll be okay with that, on account of that near-death thing you had going.” He kissed the younger man’s hair softly. “Have you showered today?”

Wordlessly, Aidan shook his head against his boyfriend’s chest.

“Okay, let’s shower,” Dean suggested, carefully moving their bodies so that they were both sitting up. “You’ll feel better after a hot shower, okay? We can talk about event sequencing in the morning, but what matters now is that I love you and things are going to be okay.”

Aidan stood up, exhausted from crying, and trailed up the stairs with Dean. “God, I feel awful,” he groaned, sitting on the toilet cover while the older man started the shower. “I just want to sleep.”

“Quick shower first, okay?”

* * *

Dean lay in bed awake long after Aidan had fallen asleep, worried about his boyfriend. It wasn’t just that the younger man could have brain damage, though that was terrifying enough; it was the way he was so scared at the idea, the way it would break the Irishman’s spirits, even if it was just event sequencing that was affected. He kept getting distracted, though, by the fact that a tiny, crumpled piece of paper in his pocket that had been in the story before he had replaced it with the drawing of them in the plane. It was a tiny, cartoonish sketch of a smiling blond man on one knee in front of a surprised, curly-haired brunet.

Considering all that went down, he was happy he had taken it out.  Still, he couldn’t help but wondering what Aidan would have thought of that.

Maybe he was sleep-deprived. They’d only been dating a year.

He stood up out of bed, moving carefully so that he wouldn’t wake his boyfriend, and left the bedroom, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Luckily, Aidan had fallen asleep early as hell, and he didn’t have to feel bad about calling Adam; it wasn’t like he’d wake the Englishman up at this hour.

“If you’re in the hospital again, I’m going to fucking kill you,” Adam answered.

Dean sighed. “I’m fine, and Aidan’s… mostly fine. He was a bit emotional,” he explained before Adam could ask for details. “I sort of just freaked myself out because I’m pretty sure I almost proposed to that little fuck. Please tell me what the hell is wrong with me that I nearly ask a guy I’ve only know a little over a year to goddamn marry me.” He smiled a little, because he could nearly hear how Adam sat up a little straighter.

“What do you mean you’re ‘pretty sure’ you ‘almost’ proposed to Aidan?” the younger man asked. “Did you almost pop the question or no?”

“It’s kind of… okay, so Aidan had to do this special neurological test at the hospital where you put pictures in the order of a story, and he didn’t do so well, probably because he was tired and half-dead, and he wanted to practice, so I drew him a couple practice stories. One was of our relationship and I replaced a drawing of me proposing with one of us on the plane to Ireland at the last minute. What am I thinking? He’s barely out to his friends.”

“But you didn’t do it,” Adam pointed out, trying to figure out exactly what worried his friend so much. “Wait, is this that weird New Zealand thing where men can’t commit?” He paused. “If you’re that worried about what you almost did, blame it on your minor head wound. Now, go propose to him or go to bed,” he instructed. “Text me tomorrow to tell me what the hell you did.”

Dean laughed a little. “Thanks, Ads. Sorry for bothering you, mate. Have a good night.”

“You too,” Adam answered before hanging up, shaking his head a little at the way his friend was so terrified at having thought of marriage.

Dean went back into the bedroom, setting his phone on his bedside table as he stripped off his clothes and slid under the covers with his boyfriend, gazing lovingly on the relaxed features of his sleeping boyfriend. Yeah, it was a good thing that he hadn’t randomly proposed with no forethought, because he would hate to lose what he had here already. With a soft sigh, he scooted in close to Aidan and fell asleep, face buried in the younger man’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I was writing the picture test scene and my first thought was that it would be a really cute way to propose, but then I realized that is ridiculous but I felt the need for Dean to be like "WOW CREATIVE PROPOSAL" and then suddenly be like "WAIT WHAT AM I THINKING I AM A NEW ZEALAND MALE WE DO NOT COMMIT AHHHHH" and thus that happened :)


	37. Winter Saturday Morning

Aidan woke up in the morning to find that Dean was already fully dressed, sitting up in bed on his laptop. “What time is it?”

“Ten,” Dean answered, smiling widely. “You got a ton of sleep for once,” he informed the younger man; Aidan had fallen asleep around nine the previous evening, exhausted from stress and crying. “How do you feel?” he asked, reaching his right hand over to stroke his boyfriend’s hair.

“Better,” Aidan admitted with a small smile, leaning his head onto Dean’s hip. “What are you doing?” He strained his neck to try to look at his boyfriend’s computer. “Is it porn?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m watching porn at ten in the morning wearing all my clothes while sitting in bed with my boyfriend,” he replied drily. “I’m reading the news from Auckland,” he added, tipping his computer down for Aidan to see. “Nothing much is happening.” He closed his laptop and leaned a little to put it on the bedside table. “Want me to make you some tea?” he asked, continuing to pet through the younger man’s soft hair.

“Nah,” Aidan answered, letting his eyes close as he relaxed in the warm bed. “I don’t want you to get up. You’re too comfortable.” He turned a little to put his arm over Dean’s hips, his head turning in a little as he hugged his boyfriend tightly. “Got any plans today?”

Leaning lazily against the headboard, Dean shook his head. “Just staying with you,” he said. “We can do whatever you want.” He sighed happily, glad that Aidan had calmed down from the previous evening, which had been, to put it nicely, a gigantic disaster.

“I don’t want to do much thinking today,” Aidan admitted tiredly, yawning a little. “I feel like if I think for very long, I’m going to freak out again.” He rolled onto his back before pushing himself into a sitting position. “We could go hiking,” he suggested, stretching his arms a little.

Dean gave his boyfriend an unimpressed look. “It’s Saturday, and on Tuesday night you were in intensive care. Hiking doesn’t sound like a good idea yet. If you want to nap or play video games or anything, I want to do some planning for my next few photography projects,” he said. “I’ll make you fried rice tonight, if you want.”

“Ooh, please,” the younger man said, looking excited at the prospect.

Smiling, Dean looked over at his boyfriend, thinking about that tiny piece of paper still crumpled up in his jeans. Aidan was beautiful, kind, funny, loving,… Dean knew exactly why he wanted (sort of, it was complicated) to marry him. There was that little, nagging problem of their respective countries, of filming ending. Despite the cheerful patter of the morning, he needed to know. “What are you going to do when we finish filming?” he asked, purposefully keeping his tone light.

Aidan wasn’t fooled by his boyfriend’s tone; he knew what the question meant. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly, trying to figure out what he _was_ planning to do. He was so happy with Dean that he had chosen to ignore that filming would end and real life would come back. “I’ll stick around for a few months, at least, but eventually I have to go back to England to work.” He sighed softly. “There isn’t any work for me here, babe. I want to stay, and I will, I’ll stay through your surgery if you have it, but we need to figure out how the hell we’re going to keep working and be together.”

Well, at least Aidan wanted to stay together. Dean knew that it was a pipe dream to hope that his boyfriend would decide to abandon his entire life back in Ireland and the UK, but it still hurt to hear that he planned to leave. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I work here, you work in England, mostly… we literally live on opposite sides of the planet.” He let his body go almost limp, sinking into the headboard as he tried to think of a solution to this major fucking problem. “I… I can do accents, so I could move to the UK or to America, and…”

“New Zealand is your home,” Aidan interrupted gently. “We both know it. I would love for you to move for me, but after a few months you’d be miserable. I want to be physically with you as much as I can, but I’m not going to ask you to move when it wouldn’t make you happy.”

“Living with you would make me happy,” Dean argued, unwilling to feel defeated yet. “So the seasons are backwards and people aren’t laidback and the countryside is less majestic. Fine. It’d be better than living here without you.”

Aidan sighed, wishing it were that easy. “Deano, we’ll figure something out,” he promised, leaning into his boyfriend’s side. “We need to be realistic. I can’t honestly say that I’ll move here, and you have to know, deep down, that you wouldn’t be completely happy living somewhere else.”

“People move to different countries. It’s a thing,” Dean pointed out. “You miss your home, but you deal with it.” He groaned in frustration. “Do you think it’ll all just work out? That after filming we’ll magically have thought of a way to stay together without making some pretty big compromises? Aid, one of us is going to have to move, and I’m willing to do it.”

“Long distance relationships are a thing,” Aidan argued.

“Not marriages!”

Silence fell immediately, and Dean could hear his own heart thundering. That had been terrible timing, and he really wished he could take it back, or turn back time and say something that wasn’t about marrying the younger man, but he was stuck. Trying not to move his body, as the statement had practically frozen them both, Dean tried to look at his boyfriend’s face; the only emotion he could discern was shock. That wasn’t exactly promising.

“What.” After practically thirty seconds of agonizing silence, that was what came out of Aidan’s mouth. It wasn’t a question, just a dumbfounded statement. They had been having a regular conversation—it had been emotional, yeah, because they were talking about their future, but still. Mostly normal. Then Dean brought up fucking marriage. That had never been discussed, and, honestly, Aidan had never thought of it as being on the table at all. He cleared his throat. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Dean kind of wished that the bed would swallow him whole so that he could avoid this conversation. “Like, if we ever…” he tried, but he knew that it was  a cop-out, and an obvious, shitty one at that. He took a deep breath and decided to be completely honest. “Last night, I nearly asked you to marry me. I don’t know why I thought it was suddenly the right time, and I freaked out about it once you fell asleep because I don’t really do commitment. But something about you just made me forget about that shit and almost ask you. Just forget about it, okay?” he finished, beginning to blush as he turned away from his boyfriend awkwardly.

Aidan huffed out a soft laugh. “You mean I penetrate that laidback exterior and nearly got a commitment-fearing New Zealander to try to marry me?” he asked, smiling. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he began when Dean shrunk down on himself even more. “I’m not making fun of you, or the idea of marrying you. But,” he added, “I can’t marry you. Not now. We both know it, babe. I need to work, and I can’t lose out on roles for being gay.”

Ah, they had come back to this argument, the longest standing, most painful argument in their relationship: Aidan staying closeted. “Seriously?” Dean said, turning back to his boyfriend and looking annoyed. “The reason you can’t marry me is that you’d lose work for being such a fucking homo? There are a lot of great reasons not to marry me. We’re only been together a year. I’m a fucking mess of worsening epilepsy. We’re young. You haven’t had a lot of serious relationships and you don’t feel sure. Hell, the opposite sides of the world one is pretty goddamn huge. And you can’t marry me because then people would know you’re a fag.”

Aidan winced. “Babe, that’s not…”

“Isn’t it?” Dean interrupted, his frustration building up steam. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I get roles. Luke gets roles. Adam gets roles. Sir Ian fucking McKellan gets a lot of roles, and is goddamn knighted. You’re not a special snowflake for being a queer actor, and I have yet to meet a casting director who gives a fuck what hole you stick your cock in.”

The younger man blanched a little at the crude way Dean was attacking his fears of never working again. “Yeah, I’m so bad at being queer,” he hissed back, pushing himself across the bed a bit to sit further away from his boyfriend. “I can’t come out, can’t be as proud as all of you guys. Never mind the fact that I’m fucking trying, that I told my family and some of my friends even though I was scared. No, I’m just a little fucking coward because a year after I came to terms with being attracted to men, I’m not ready to be out to the entire world.”

“You’re not bad at being queer, but saying you won’t get roles is a bullshit excuse and you know it,” Dean shot back. “If you’re honest and say that you’re scared of what people will say or think, that’s fine and we can work on that, but don’t hide behind some shit about it affecting your career that much.”

Aidan huffed in frustration. “There’s a difference between always being out and coming out after years of working,” he pointed out. “And, yeah, people are going to say shit and I don’t want that.” He crossed his arms over s chest, clearly pissed. “I love you, but I’m not prepared for this shit. That first time I kissed you, back in the set for Bilbo’s house, I wasn’t signing on for all of this. I want it, but I need time.”

Dean was silent, looking torn and a little upset.

“What?”

With an apologetic expression, Dean looked over at his boyfriend, “That’s not when we first kissed,” he said quietly. “It’s okay, babe, it’s not a big deal. You were drunk that first time we kissed, so of course you’re confused…”

“It isn’t that and you know it,” Aidan said, looking miserable. “My brain can’t figure out what happened when. We were drunk when we first kissed?” he clarified.

Dean grinned. “ _You_ were,” he corrected. “I was sober.”

“We were at that gay bar, right? That place Ian took us because he hated that we always went to straight places as a cast. Adam was dancing, and I was talking about how I’d never been to a gay bar in Ireland, and then I leaned over and kissed you,” Aidan said, smiling at the memory. His face fell, though when he saw Dean’s expression. “That wasn’t it, was it?”

“We were at the regular pub,” Dean began softly. “You’d had a few pints, and you were all over me, telling me you liked my photography, and then you kissed me. I joked about how drunk you were, and you told me you meant it and tried to make out with me. It was terrible, because you were drunk and awkward, but I liked you. When you sobered up the next morning, you tried to apologize, but I kissed you, and asked you to go to dinner with me.”

Aidan sighed, looking sad. “Why can’t I figure this out?” he asked, banging his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder gently. “I love you. I should be able to tell you the order of things in our relationship, but I’m sitting here with no idea of any of our firsts.”

“You don’t need to know our firsts,” Dean said firmly, wrapping a gentle arm around Aidan and kissing his soft hair. “All you need to know is that we love each other. A relationship isn’t about being able to tell me what our first date was, or first kiss, or first time in bed…” He smiled a little. “I’m always willing to remind you, babe,” he added.

“I shouldn’t have to be reminded,” Aidan muttered. “Fuck it, let’s just go have some tea.” He maneuvered out of Dean’s loose embrace and stood, shivering a little as he went to pull a long-sleeve shirt from the drawer. He tugged it on and left the bedroom to go downstairs, not bothering to change out of his pajama bottoms before he went.

Dean levered himself off of the bed to follow his boyfriend, reaching down to adjust himself in his pants as he went. He had planned to be hot for his boyfriend, had put on the underwear Aidan liked in hopes of distracting him for the day, but the younger man hadn’t seemed to be in the mood, and now he was walking downstairs with lace underwear beneath his jeans. “I’ll make you tea,” he said softly, clicking on their half-filled kettle as he passed it on the way to the cabinet for mugs and teas to choose from.

Aidan sat at the table, staring down at his hands, but he looked up when his boyfriend set a few boxes of tea in front of him. Grateful for the distraction, however small it was, he looked at them all carefully before selecting a green tea with mint. “Thanks,” he said softly, putting his teabag into the mug in front of him and watching vaguely as Dean looked through the tea and chose Irish breakfast. “Do you want me to make something to eat?” he asked. “I think we’ve got enough juice and frozen fruit for a couple smoothies.”

“It’s too cold for smoothies,” Dean said, shaking his head. “We could make some ‘bangers and mash’ or whatever you like.”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “That’s Brits. I’m Irish,” he pointed out, smirking. “We don’t even have the potatoes for mash. What about bacon and toast?” When Dean nodded, he stood and began to look through the refrigerator, finding the bacon and getting it out before finding a pan and starting to cook. “Can you do the toast, babe?” he asked, not turning away from the stove.

“Of course,” Dean answered, getting out the bread and sticking some in the toaster oven. He was glad to see that Aidan was finding ways to distract himself, and he watched lazily as the younger man cooked for him. He poured their tea once the water was hot, and drank his own slowly as he buttered toast for the two of them. “The bacon smells wonderful.”

Smiling, Aidan turned off the stove. “It’s done! And I didn’t burn it!” he said proudly, sliding the hot meat onto their plates. He set the pan in the sink for watching before sitting down at the table with his boyfriend. “I wish we had a fireplace,” he said conversationally as he began to eat. “Wintertime and fires are romantic,” he explained.

“Someone wants to fuck in front of a fire,” Dean teased, washing down a bite of toast with his tea. “I’d be into that,” he admitted with a grin. “It’d be hot, and we wouldn’t need blankets during foreplay to keep from freezing.” He finished up his food and went to clean up, washing everything efficiently, including Aidan’s plate when the younger man handed it to him.

“Now I _really_ want a fireplace,” Aidan complained, wrapping his arms around Dean from behind and kissing his neck as the blond finished with the dishes. “What are we supposed to do? Leave the oven on and open and fuck on the table?”

Dean laughed loudly, his head tipping back into Aidan’s chest and shoulder. “That sounds exactly like doing it in front of the fire, great plan,” he said, placing the pan onto their drying rack and toweling off his hands before turning around in his boyfriend’s arms to kiss him gently. “What about somewhere new and exciting?” he asked, wracking his brains for somewhere that would be different for them. Aidan was pleasantly distracted, and he wanted to keep it that way; anyway, who could say no to the great sex they had whenever they tried something new?

“Where would that be?” Aidan asked, rolling his hips against his boyfriend’s languidly, sliding a hand behind the older man’s head to draw him in for a kiss. “We’ve had sex in the living room, against this counter, in the bedroom and shower, obviously…” He nipped a little at Dean’s neck. “You’ve got me wanting something new and exciting, babe. You’ve got to deliver.”

Tilting his head so that Aidan could continue to tease at his neck, Dean looked up thoughtfully. “There aren’t that many rooms in the house,” he murmured, bucking his hips a little when Aidan’s moved in a particularly wonderful little circle. He smiled after a few moments. “What if we took some blankets out onto the back porch?” he suggested. Even he, the less easily embarrassed half of the couple, blushed a little at the thought.

Aidan turned a red too, but pressed his hips harder against his boyfriend’s. “Yeah,” he breathed, shuddering a tiny bit at the mere thought of it. “Come on, blankets,” he added, pulling back from Dean so that they could trip up the stairs and grab warm blankets from their bed and the closet. The younger man made sure to grab a tube of lube from the bedside table, holding it among the blankets as they went downstairs and out the back door.

It was chilly outside, though it could have been worse. They set up a blanket over the wooden slats of the porch as a cushion, falling onto it, giggling a little, and pulling the other blankets on top of them. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Dean admitted breathlessly, pulling Aidan into his roughly for a deep kiss, one hand sliding down the younger man’s back and under the waistband of his flannel pajama pants, fingers resting at the top of the swell of the Irishman’s ass.

“It’s fucking hot,” Aidan groaned, rolling on top of his boyfriend and pressing him down into the hard wood beneath them. “Nobody else is outside, because it’s fucking June and freezing, so we aren’t going to be caught… but we could,” he added, a bit of a feral smile taking over his face as he bit down on Dean’s neck. “Someone might come around back after knocking on the door and not getting an answer, and they’d see me fuck you until you come all over yourself, screaming.”

Dean shook a little under the younger man, turned on by his words and the thought of someone seeing them. It was a perfect fantasy, one never meant to be fulfilled, and he liked hearing his boyfriend talk about it. “You want that?” he asked, sliding his hands farther down Aidan’s pants to grip his ass tightly. “You want someone to see how good you are in bed? To see how hard you make me?” While Aidan’s loose flannel pajama bottoms gave ample room for his growing erection, which pressed against Dean’s thigh, the Kiwi’s jeans trapped his own in a way that hovered between discomfort and perverse pleasure. “Come on and fuck me.”

“Naked,” Aidan muttered, sitting up to pull off his own shirt before working open the buttons of Dean’s red flannel. “Gotta be naked to fuck.”

Dean grinned, lifting his upper body a bit so they could yank his shirt off and throw it to the side. He was briefly exposed to the cold air before Aidan pressed their chests together again and drew the warm blankets back over them. “I don’t know,” he teased, an innocent look on his face. “You might not want me _totally_ naked for this.”

“Hm?” Aidan asked, unsure what his boyfriend meant. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well,” Dean said, smirking. “Why don’t you look and see?”

Aidan reached between them and attacked Dean’s button and fly with a ferocity usually reserved for action scenes. “Fuck,” he whispered reverently when he managed to get them open and saw black lace below faded denim. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Yeah, you want me to keep those on, don’t you?” Dean asked in a husky voice, shimmying out of his jeans as Aidan yanked his elastic-banded pajamas down and kicked them off. “Come on, babe. Fuck me,” he purred, sighing as some of the building pressure was relieved by Aidan grinding against him.

The Irishman gasped loudly at the texture of lace against his erection, and he tugged his boyfriend’s jeans off from around his ankles and dragged one of the older man’s legs up around his waist. “I’ve got to have you,” he muttered, pawing around next to their bodies without looking until his hand landed on the lube. He had to kneel up between Dean’s knees, both of their nipples pebbling in the cold, in order to pour the slick liquid onto his hand, but he was soon on top of his boyfriend once more, bodies warm together as he reached his head downwards. He pushed aside lace and slowly slid a single finger into the older man’s hot body.

“Fuck!” Dean cried, hands moving up to grip Aidan’s shoulders in need. His hips hitched, riding his boyfriend’s finger with a needy moan. It had been a while, and he needed this connection after their difficult, fearful week. “You can prep me faster than that,” he gasped. “I can take it.”

“I know you can,” Aidan groaned, pressing a second finger in along with the first, scissoring them apart slowly. “You look so good down there,” he added, bending his neck so that he could bite into the firm flesh of his boyfriend’s chest, which heaved under him with pleasure as he did so. “Yeah, you like a little pain, don’t you?” he muttered, smirking.

Dean said nothing, simply arching into Aidan’s teeth while simultaneously trying to rock himself further onto the younger man’s fingers. He whimpered a little, one hand escaping from Aidan’s shoulder to grip his hair, pulling roughly to beg for more. While it was unlikely that anyone else was outside, he still needed to be quiet, so that nobody out to simply take out their trash would grow curious and come to see what was happening. “Faster,” he grunted when his boyfriend didn’t add in a third finger soon enough for his liking.

“So demanding,” Aidan teased, smirking, but he did as asked and carefully inserted a third finger alongside the others. “You’re all sorts of desperate, aren’t you?” he asked, hitching Dean’s leg a little higher up on his hip when it began to slip. “Can I… are you ready?” he gasped after a few moments stretching the older man’s tight body.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, rolling his hips down against Aidan’s prying fingers to prove his answer. “Go on and fuck me,” he said plainly, leaving no room for mistaking his intent. He groaned softly as he watched the younger man reached down and position himself, but his eyes closed briefly in pleasure as his boyfriend slid deep inside him in one long, controlled stroke. “God,” he sighed, pulling Aidan in as close as possible with his leg and arms.

Aidan exhaled slowly, his warm breath shuddering against Dean’s skin. “Love you,” he muttered, pressing his face into his boyfriend’s neck before starting to thrust, slowly at first as he let Dean’s body adjust to his cock.

Underneath the younger man, Dean panted heavily, trying to force his body to relax so that they could speed up. He wouldn’t mind speeding up now, but Aidan tended to balk at the thought of going too fast. “Come on,” he muttered, digging his heel into his boyfriend’s ass to try to force a faster, harder thrust. “I want it hard, babe.” He arched, dragging sharp nails down Aidan’s back, when the younger man began to thrust in earnest, skin beginning to gleam with sweat from exertion.

Feeling too warm from the combination of frenzied movement, arousal, and covers, Aidan managed to shrug the thick, fleece blankets down to their knees. Chill bit at his skin, causing him to shiver, but he simply bent closer down toward Dean and thrust harder, crying out in pleasure as the feel of the older man’s tight body around his erection. “Fuck,” he muttered, pushing himself up on one hand to kiss Dean deeply and sloppily.

Dean grabbed at Aidan’s hair and yanked his head up, freeing his mouth. “I need more,” he gasped, upper body bouncing against the wood of the porch as he was pounded. “Aid!” he cried, louder than he meant to, as the younger man reached a hand between them and began to palm at his trapped erection. He would love to be stroked the completion, but he knew that Aidan would not move the underwear from his cock if it could be avoided. Damn that gorgeous little fetishist. “Please!”

Supporting all his weight on one grounded hand, Aidan continued to rub Dean’s erection through the thin lacy cloth, getting lost in the sensation possibly more than his boyfriend was. “Fuck,” he muttered, hips snapping forward harder as he glanced down between their bodies to see the way Dean’s thick, almost purple erection strained at the delicate black fabric. “I’m… this’ll be fast,” he admitted roughly.

That was not a surprise to Dean, who squeezed his internal muscles around his boyfriend to speed him along toward release. “Want you to come inside me,” he breathed, jerking Aidan’s hair a little. “And then you’re going to pull out and get me off with your mouth.”

Aidan shuddered at the image, thinking of licking Dean through textured black fabric and tasting his come, and bit down on the older man’s shoulder as he thrust home a few more times, his balls drawing close to his body, and came hard, his cry muffled by his boyfriend’s skin as he thrust wildly through his orgasm. “Dean, Dean,” he whispered as he slowed, letting his supporting arm give out so that he fell on top of the New Zealander, exhausted.

“You, uh, still have something to do,” Dean teased after a minute passed with Aidan panting on top of him. He groaned when the younger man moved his hand once more, grinding it down against Dean’s leaking, needy erection. “Please, babe,” he breathed, sighing in relief when Aidan pulled out of him and moved down his body to lick him through his underwear. The texture was strange, but the sensation was not unwelcome, and he jerked his hips up in need, a strong hand holding his boyfriend’s head down against him.

With Dean’s leg wrapped around his shoulder, Aidan kept his neck bent as he concentrated on his task. It was simultaneously easier and harder than giving a blowjob. He didn’t have to restrain his gag reflex, but sucking made Dean come faster than licking. To speed the process and give his boyfriend a much needed and deserved orgasm, Aidan brought a hand up to press two fingers inside of him, slicked with the lube and semen already there, and rubbed them hard against the older man’s prostate.

“Fuck!” Dean cried, surprised by the fingers inside of him. “Yes, yes,” he breathed, the surprise giving way to pleasure as Aidan continued to rub and lick. “I’m… yeah, like that, come on…” He cut himself off with a moan, fingers clenching in the younger man’s dark curls as he shook under him and came, thick white semen staining black lace.

“God,” Aidan muttered, sucking the salty fluid through the fabric until Dean’s moans turned to whimpers, and his pulled his fingers and mouth away. “That was hot,” he said, moving back up so that his face was level with his boyfriend’s, kissing the older man before flopping down onto him tiredly. “Very hot.”

Dean nodded in agreement, still panting. “We should probably go inside before we freeze,” he mumbled after a minute, the cold beginning to bite as it cooled his sweat against his skin. When Aidan rolled off of him, he pulled on his jeans and shirt, though the latter was left unbuttoned, and began to gather the blankets as his boyfriend did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO actual question: should I add brain damage to the tags?


	38. Guys I am depressing and I'm sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST OFF--SUPER IMPORTANT: trigger warning for suicidal thoughts. No specific plans are mentioned, but it takes up a lot of the chapter. Take care of yourselves!
> 
> SECOND OFF--ALSO IMPORTANT BUT LESS SO: I want to clarify that in the fight in the last chapter (about Aidan coming out), neither of them were right. That's not how these fights work. Nobody has the right to decide when someone else comes out, and being worried about what people will say or do is very legitimate. Think about non-famous people who are out selectively--they worry for their safety, their mental health, all of that. BUT if Aidan is unwilling to come out, they are clearly in different places in what they want in a relationship, and it's not fair to Dean for Aidan to start the process and stop because Dean wants marriage, which necessitates coming out.

“Am I marriage material?”

Luke raised an eyebrow at his friend. “You’re cute, Aidan, but I’ve got a girlfriend, and I don’t think Dean would like it if we ran off and got married,” he answered. It was early in the morning, the sun rising as they ate breakfast, and he had no idea what the Irishman was on about.

With a frustrated groan, Aidan shook his head. “I think that Dean thinks we’ll eventually get married,” he explained; that was a little vaguer than the reality, where his boyfriend had almost proposed to him over the weekend, but he needed more generalized advice. If he told Luke about the near-proposal, the other man would get distracted by that fact and never answer his original question. “I love him and all, but I don’t know if I would be so great at that, so… am I marriage material?”

“Well, do you want to get married?” Luke asked, attempting to take the situation in stride despite the fact it was far too fucking early.

“Maybe? I don’t know.” Aidan sighed. “If Dean were a girl, I’d say yes,” he admitted. “If we were straight, I wouldn’t be wondering. I know it’s unfair to him, that I might not marry him just because he’s a guy, but…”

“He’s your first boyfriend,” Luke interrupted gently. “You don’t just go from ‘trying to be straight’ to ‘ready to marry a man and be out to the world’ in a year. On the other hand,” he continued, “if you don’t think you’ll ever be able to marry him, or even come out to the general public, you probably shouldn’t be with him. I know it sounds harsh,” he added, seeing his friend’s shocked face, “but he’s looking for someone for life. He wants it to be you, but he doesn’t want a secret. You can’t just keep dating him for another few years knowing that he wants to marry you and knowing you won’t do that.” He paused. “Wait, did he bring this up because you almost died?” he asked.

Aidan hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. He talked about marriage before, but he was on Percocet at the time, so it doesn’t really count. If it was because of the fever thing, it means I don’t have to be ready now, right? I’ve got a few years to be able to come out?”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Luke replied. “I’m not Dean. I have no idea what it is that he wants and when. It’s okay if you need some time to think about whether or not you want to marry Dean, and, if you do, whether or not you think you can come out. You’re getting over freaking near-death meningitis, and you look exhausted. You don’t have to know right fucking now if you’re going to put a ring on it.”

“Thanks,” Aidan said softly, having desperately needed to hear that it was okay to be unsure for a while. He sighed, though, still feeling morose. “I failed a neurological test at the hospital after my fever,” he said abruptly. “Dean did it again at home, and I failed it again.”

The change of subject was so sudden and large that Luke took a moment to process it, feeling like he had some sort of conversational whiplash. “What does that mean?” he asked quietly, not sure how to respond, or even what the implication of failing a neurological test was, beyond not being a good thing.

“I don’t know. The fever was high, but they thought they’d prevented brain damage,” Aidan answered. “Guess not, though, ‘cause my sequential memory went to shit. I couldn’t figure out the first time I kissed Dean or anything, and that was such a big deal for me that it shouldn’t get jumbled up in everything else.”

Luke scooted his chair closer to his friend, who looked miserable under his wig and makeup. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. There weren’t any words of comfort he could offer without sounding hollow and false, because there was no way of knowing if it would get better, or even just get bearable. “Is there anything I can do for you, mate?”

Aidan shook his head. “Nah. I just had to say something, ‘cause it’s eating me up inside. Dean and I have to go through a whole day pretending everything’s fucking great, and it’s not.” He shrugged listlessly.

“Are you and Dean competing for some sort of most medical problems in any relationship award?” Luke asked, a little baffled. He was glad that Aidan cracked a small smile, and he gently bumped their shoulders together. “Come on,” he added, standing up. “Let’s get some more coffee before we start filming.”

By the time lunch came around, Aidan was feeling exhausted again, and instead of going to eat with his friends, he wandered back to curl up in his makeup chair and go to sleep in blessed silence. His sleep was cut short, though, by the sound of someone calling his name. “Go ‘way!” he muttered grouchily, snuggling deeper into his coat and refusing to open his eyes.

“You okay, babe?” Dean asked, bending down a little to try to see his boyfriend’s face. “You walked off without a word. You need to eat, Aid,” he added, prodding gently at the younger man’s shoulder to try to keep him awake. “You’ll pass out if you don’t.”

Aidan groaned and opened his eyes, resigned to the fact that Dean wouldn’t let him sleep until he ate something. He was happy to see, however, that he didn’t have to go to the catering area; instead, he found that Dean had brought him a plate of food. “Thanks,” he whispered, taking the proffered food and fork and digging in. “You’re the best,” he mumbled through a mouthful.

With his boyfriend awake and eating, Dean moved to sit in the other makeup chair, pulling an apple out of his pocket to snack on. “So, are you okay?” he asked again, stretching casually as he watched the younger man eat.

“I’m fine,” Aidan answered. “Just tired. I promise,” he added, seeing Dean’s skeptical expression. “I’m not still sick, babe. I don’t think meningitis can relapse or anything, and even if it can, that isn’t happening. We’ve got a horrible fucking schedule and I need some more sleep.” He put his fork down on his plate, taking a break from food for the moment, instead focusing his energy on talking to his boyfriend. “Deano, you don’t have to worry about me, okay? You’re going to stress yourself into a seizure, _again_ , and that would make you miserable.” He picked up his fork and started eating again, trying not to yawn around each mouthful.

“Okay,” Dean replied, satisfied with the answer. “You’ll tell me if you feel anything worse than tired, right?” When Aidan nodded, he smiled. “Good.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. “Back to work,” he groaned, standing up and tossing his apple core into a trash can. “Don’t fall asleep again, ‘cause you need to be on set in five minutes,” he told the younger man, and then, halfway out the door, not wanting to see his boyfriend’s face or hear an immediate response, he said, “I’ve decided to have the brain surgery.”

* * *

Aidan had no idea how he managed to get back to set, feeling like he was almost physically reeling with the shock of Dean’s pronouncement. On the other hand, he was no longer at risk of falling asleep where he stood. He knew that Dean wanted him to think before they talked about it; the older man had said it while leaving, and had surrounded himself with other people on set so that Aidan couldn’t go up and say anything to him. It was a clever strategy, the younger man had to admit. It was also incredibly frustrating, because he had no idea how to sort through his feelings about it, and couldn’t get answers to the questions that burned within him.

Why did you decide to get the surgery? Is this as sudden of a decision as it seems to be? Are you scared? When are you getting it? Have you told your doctor? Have you told your family? How safe is this surgery? How effective is it?

Could I lose you?

Terrified questions floated through his mind, and he was grateful for the distraction of filming, though every break gave rise to more confused thoughts. Nobody bothered him; they all seemed to assume that he was still just tired from being sick, and gave him the room he so desperately needed at that moment. After a few hours, though, Adam sidled up to him.

“Are you okay?” the Englishman asked quietly.

Aidan smiled wanly. “Tired,” he answered, shrugging. “I’m just ready to go home.”

“You and me both,” Adam replied, giving his friend a nod. “Just checking, mate. You scared the hell out of all of us last week. Turns out we love you, even if you are an annoying prick sometimes.”

The Irishman laughed, though his heart wasn’t in it. Frankly, his heart wasn’t in anything that afternoon because Dean had dropped a fucking bombshell at lunch and he couldn’t get it out of his head. It was torture that he couldn’t get the older man alone until they were in the car, headed home. Even then, Aidan knew he had to tread lightly. “So, uh, you’ve decided,” he said after a couple minutes of exhausted silence.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, looking out the window. “I can’t take it anymore. Not with how bad it’s gotten.” He sighed quietly. “I feel stupid and weak and shitty, because I shouldn’t feel like my options are surgery or killing myself, but—“

It was lucky that they were on a deserted street at that point, because Aidan slammed on the brakes. “You’ve… you’ve thought about that?” he asked in as calm a tone as he could manage.

Dean shrugged, looking listless and guilty. “Yeah,” he admitted, still avoiding Aidan’s gaze. “Look, it’s just when I think about my future, and all I see is my life staying like this… Aidan, you can’t imagine how it feels to live like this. I’m losing everything, a little bit at a time. I can’t drink, I can’t stay up late, I can barely convince myself to want sex so I’m going to lose you…”

“I don’t need sex.”

The older man let out a snort of derision.

“I don’t,” Aidan repeated. “If you have to force yourself to want it, we don’t have to have it. Yeah, I like it, because you’re gorgeous and sexy and wonderful in bed, but I’m not going to leave because you don’t want to have sex.” Having recovered a little from the shock of Dean’s admission, he took his foot from the brake and switched to the accelerator, continuing on their way home. “I completely support you having this surgery, babe, but I can’t let you think that the only other way is to kill yourself, because that’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean whispered, a few tears starting to fall. “It isn’t to you, Aid, but it is to me, because I am so tired.”

Aidan turned onto their street, trying to keep himself calm because he needed to be the rock in this conversation. “Dean,” he said quietly, glancing over at his crying boyfriend and feeling his heart break. “Tomorrow morning, you’re going to find professional help. I love you and I will listen to anything you need to say, but you need someone who knows what they’re doing. Tonight, though, we’re going to sit on the couch and eat some comfort food before going to bed early. We don’t need to drink or stay up or have sex, because love is a fuck lot more than that. You might lose those things, but I will be fucked if you lose me.” Though it was not the time to mention it, he realized with a jolt that he suddenly knew the answer to Luke’s question from that morning: he did want to marry Dean, no matter how scared he was of coming out. He pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and turned off the ignition. “I know that I can’t understand how hard things are, but I can’t imagine they are so bad that there isn’t a reason to keep going.”

Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, walking slowly toward the house. “I live in fear,” he explained quietly as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. “Every waking moment, I’m scared that I’m going to seize. It used to be a few times a month, and now it’s nearly every day, and they’re worse than ever. I’m in pain and sick from them so much.” He paused as he kicked off his shoes and hung his jacket up. “I can’t even explain to myself why I’m too tired to try anymore, but I am.” He took a few steps to get to the living room and collapsed onto the couch, still refusing to look at his boyfriend.

Undeterred by Dean’s lack of eye contact, Aidan followed the older man to the couch and sat beside him, a gentle hand on his thigh. “I don’t blame you,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not your fault that you feel like this. You don’t have to justify your emotions to me. I just need you to try for a few more months, okay? Just keep going long enough to get professional therapy and maybe even the surgery before you talk about giving up.”

Sighing, Dean let his body sag in exhaustion, leaning into Aidan. He was too tired to keep talking to the younger man about this, and he just needed to be held and comforted. “Let’s just have dinner,” he mumbled into the brunet’s chest. “Just… let’s eat something and go to bed.”

“Yeah,” Aidan agreed. “How about Chinese? I’ll call it in and you can take a shower, baby. It might make you feel a little bit better, even if it’s just for a few minutes.” He ran a gentle hand through his boyfriend’s soft hair. “I love you, Deano. Is there anything I can do that’ll help?”

Dean shook his head. “It’s my whole life. You’re amazing and all, but even you can’t make up for how shit everything else is.” He sighed quietly and snuggled a little closer into Aidan’s warm chest. “I don’t feel like showering. Can we just eat and go to bed?” he asked apathetically.

“If that’s what you want to do,” Aidan answered, sad that the older man didn’t want to do anything more than that. “Hey,” he said quietly, kissing the top of Dean’s head softly. “If you need to vent or anything, I’ll listen.”

When Dean shook his head, Aidan pulled his phone from his pocket and called their usual Chinese food place and placed an order. He probably got more food than necessary, but he had a feeble hope that something that tasted great would somehow make the older man happy.

* * *

Dean woke up with his face pressed against Aidan’s neck, the alarm on his phone playing loudly. “Fuck,” he groaned, sitting up slowly.

“You think you can go to work today?” Aidan asked quietly, rubbing his boyfriend’s back as he blinked awake. “I know PJ probably wouldn’t go for a mental health day, but we can lie.”

The older man shook his head. “Aid, I’ve been this depressed for a while and still going to work. I’ll be fine.” shuffled into the bathroom to brush his teeth and pee before he left. “Richard’s giving me a ride. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

“Once it’s late enough, you’re calling a therapist during a break to make an appointment,” Aidan said loudly, making sure Dean could hear him in the other room, though the open door helped. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he unzipped his jeans and took a piss. “I get it, Aid. I’ll get a fucking counselor,” he called back, kind of impressed that his boyfriend had woken up quickly enough to have this conversation. Aidan was used to sleeping in an extra hour, the lucky little shit, but apparently thought that this was important enough to force himself to sit up and talk seriously. “I know I need help, okay? I’m not going to refuse to get therapy. I want to feel better.”

Aidan stood up and staggered into the bathroom to lean against the counter and talk to his boyfriend. “Good. You deserve to be happy,” he said quietly. “And when you go to therapy, you have to try.”

“I know how to get counseled,” Dean groused, flushing the toilet and hip-checking Aidan out of the way so that he could wash his hands. “I already said I want to feel better. Leave it.” He went back into the bedroom to tug on jeans, a warm sweater, and socks, and then kissed Aidan softly. “Look, I know I’m a goddamn mess and I’m unhappy with my life, but I really do love you. Even if you don’t make up for how shit everything else is, you’re still the best part of… everything.” He smiled wanly and headed down the stairs to step into his shoes and pull on his jacket before stepping out into the cold. Richard’s car was parked at the end of the driveway, still running, and he got into it tiredly. “Thanks for the ride,” he mumbled.

“No problem,” Richard answered, shifting out of park and pressing the gas to head to the set. “You look more exhausted than usual. Did you get sleep?”

Dean shrugged. “Things are rough right now, with Aidan getting sick and all of that,” he explained, leaning his head against the window as the drove through the dark streets. He really wished that this were a normal job, where he didn’t have to be up and riding to work before the sun rose, but it was probably worth it to be in this movie. “I’m… worried about him.” It was a cop-out to explain his exhaustion, not wanting to go into the abject misery of his current life, but it was also pretty damn true.

Richard nodded understandingly as he turned onto the main road. “Is he still feeling bad?”

“Just some residual stuff,” Dean answered vaguely. “He’s mostly feeling better, but I still stay up worrying.” He settled back into his seat, feeling a sort of exhausted soreness creeping up on him, and listened to the soft, calming music that was playing on the stereo, already feeling his social energy draining. He had no idea how he would survive a whole day like this.

By the time they got to set, Dean felt like he couldn’t take an entire day of acting happy with his friends. He sort of wished he could wear a sign that said “leave me the fuck alone” or something along those lines. Instead he simply went to go get his makeup done, pretending to be half asleep to ward off any questions. As he left, though, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Hugo. _I kind of need to talk with you when you have a second._

He was surprised when his phone vibrated within a few minutes, barely able to feel the buzz through all the layers of his costume, and he pulled it out to see that Hugo had already texted him back. _Lunch? Our schedules probably don’t match up until then._

 _Sure_ , Dean replied, resigning himself to a full morning of faking socialness with his friends before he could talk to the one person that might understand. _Thanks_ , he added as an afterthought. The Australian had no obligation to talk him through all his problems, and he knew this would be a heavy thing to lay on the other man, even less comfortable than the sex seizure debacle from before, and, frankly, that was saying something.

He felt a little better when Aidan made it to set and out of makeup; not only was the younger man probably the best part of his current existence, but also the others gave them a bit of room due to the Irishman’s recent illness. “Hey,” the blond said tiredly, leaning into his boyfriend’s side.

“Hey,” Aidan replied, wrapping an arm around the older man. “I was going to bring you coffee and a donut, but I was late and didn’t have time. So much for being a great boyfriend.”

Dean gave the brunet a wan smile. “You’re still great,” he assured him. “It’s the thought that counts, right? I’m going to eat lunch with Hugo, I think. Make my excuses with the guys, yeah? I don’t want them to know how I’m feeling. It’s not their business.”

“Can do,” Aidan answered simply. “Have you tried to find a counselor yet?”

“I’ll do it at our first break,” the older man replied. “I think we’re about to start shooting, and I need a little while to look therapists up to find one I can call. I promise I’ll do it,” he added, seeing his boyfriend’s skeptical expression.

Aidan nodded, and pressed a quick kiss to Dean’s forehead before they heard Peter calling to start, and they both rushed off to where the director was standing.

When lunch came around, Dean had set up an appointment with a counselor who was, thankfully, willing to come in on a Saturday for him. He slid into a chair next to Hugo, having dragged the older man over to a table away from the group once they had gotten lunch.

“So,” Hugo said, leaving the word in the air to prompt his younger friend into speaking.

“So,” Dean echoed. “Okay, I know that you shouldn’t have to deal with all the bullshit of my emotions, so I’m really sorry about this, but I don’t know where else to turn anymore. I’m getting a counselor this weekend, so, like, maybe this isn’t necessary? You shouldn’t be burdened with all my crap.”

Hugo restrained himself from rolling his eyes; everyone deserved support, and if he was the only one who could give it to Dean, the New Zealander shouldn’t have to apologize. “Dean, it’s fine. If I’m the only person you feel comfortable talking to about this shit, then at least you have someone to talk to. Counseling is good, though,” he added.

Dean sighed quietly, not sure how to start this conversation. “My neurologist has me considering one of those weird implants that shocks your brain to stop seizures and I think I want it, but that’s not the point of this. I don’t know how to say this.” He paused. “It’s gotten so bad that I think about killing myself sometimes,” he said in a small voice.

Trying not to show his surprise, Hugo simply asked, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m tired of fighting,” Dean answered slowly. “Every day, getting up is nearly impossible, knowing what the day could be like. I can’t stay up or drink and I think I’m fucking up my relationship with my boyfriend because I’m miserable half the time and I don’t want to have sex because I’ve fucked that up a couple times now, and… I don’t even know. I just don’t feel like I can take this any longer.”

Hugo nodded. “It’s been getting worse, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good that you’re getting a counselor,” Hugo said softly. “I understand why you feel like this, but it’s not worth it. Filming’s going to finish up in a few months, and you can get the surgery. You just have to fight this for a little while longer. I know it sucks, it really does, but you’re so close to being able to do something. You don’t have to keep going for those few months, anyway,” he said. “Look, I know you’d feel bad after doing so much filming, but your health and your life trump everything that has to do with the movie.”

“I can’t just leave,” Dean argued. “And… and I don’t know if I can do it without Aidan there and I can’t ask him to leave too. I know it’s needy and expecting too much from this guy who’s only been with me for a year, but I can’t do this without him because he’s basically the only thing keeping me from giving up.” He sighed quietly. “I’m such a fuck-up right now, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive the next three months.”

Hugo nodded in understanding. “You can do it. I know it feels impossible now, but it’s just a few more months until you can make it better with the surgery. It seems like it’s practically forever right now, but that’s just because you’re in the worst of it. Try to do things that used to make you happy, Dean. Not sex, because forcing yourself to do that is a really bad idea, but other things. You’re a photographer, right? Start a project to distract you and remind you what there is to live for. Go out with your boyfriend, get your friends to hang out with you without drinking so that you aren’t left out, or pick up a new hobby. Look,” he said, worried he was fucking this up. “I don’t know what can help. I’ve never dealt with the feelings you’re dealing with, so I can’t figure this out for you. Just keep going until you see that counselor, okay? It’s just a few more days, Dean. You can make it a few more days, even if everything still feels like shit.”

Dean sighed softly. “Yeah,” he mumbled, not sure how much he believed it. “Just… thanks for listening. Shit’s hard, you know?”

“Yeah, it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard but important for me to write. At the worst of my epilepsy--seizing nearly every day--I felt hopeless. It felt like it would never get better, and I couldn't go on like that for much longer. But things got better, thanks to increased/fine-tuned medications. Basically my point here is that epilepsy can be hard, especially when it's taking up your whole life. By no means does this mean epilepsy is a reason to want to commit suicide, or even that many people with it think that. However, some people have these feelings, and I relate to these feelings when things are at their worst.


	39. I'm writing longer chapters lately

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I may be having surgery as soon as next week, so if I disappear for a while, I'm recovering :)

It took twenty minutes to drive Dean to his hour-long therapist appointment, so it would be ridiculous for Aidan to go back home; he would literally have to turn around the minute he got there. Instead, he took a book and went to a café, getting some tea and attempting to relax. Relaxing, as it turned out, was impossibly hard when one’s semi-suicidal boyfriend was talking to a therapist. He wanted to pace, but he couldn’t, not in public. Taking a walk wouldn’t give him the same level of help as the back and forth of pacing, and so he sat in a comfortable chair with his mystery novel and read each paragraph multiple times before he comprehended anything. Luckily, he only had to do that stressful charade for half an hour before he drove the five minutes back to the therapist’s office to pick Dean up. The older man was waiting just inside the door and just came out to meet Aidan, sliding into the passenger seat silently.

“Hey,” Aidan said awkwardly as Dean buckled his seatbelt. He desperately wanted to know how it had gone, but also knew that it wasn’t his business to ask; therapy was private, even between boyfriends.

Dean looked over at him. “Hey yourself,” he said with a small smile. “Look, I know I freaked you out earlier this week, but I’m not going to kill myself. I just… think about it sometimes. I’m pretty sure I can make it through the next few months, but I do need this surgery, Aid. I can’t keep going like this for much longer, especially if I don’t see an end to it.”

“Babe, you don’t have to justify your choice to me,” Aidan replied, turning onto the main road to get out of downtown Wellington. “When I said I’d support you either way, I meant it. If you feel like you need it as soon as possible, start scheduling now, because I’ve heard that non-emergency surgery is a _bitch_ to schedule quickly.”

Feeling a little better, since Aidan was taking the news of definite brain surgery pretty well, Dean relaxed into his seat a bit. “I’ll do that,” he mumbled. “I’m still sorting through these feelings of being weak, because one session of therapy doesn’t cure all of my issues, as it turns out, but I can work on scheduling while I deal with that.” He sighed softly. “I know that I have way worse epilepsy that most people who have it, but a part of me feels shitty because everybody else survives epilepsy without brain surgery, so why should I be any different?”

“I’d probably be a terrible therapist, but you can tell me about those feelings,” Aidan told his boyfriend. “Sometimes you need to say the things that you keep inside because you feel awful saying them, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Logic doesn’t make a difference when something as emotional and stressful as this comes into play, and I think part of the reason these feelings got so bad is that you felt like you couldn’t tell anyone.”

“It was more that I didn’t want to tell anyone,” Dean corrected the younger man. “I knew that I had some options, but every part of it made me feel weak: wanting the surgery, wanting to die, seeing no way out… all of that felt like I was the only one who couldn’t deal with things, so other people wouldn’t want to hear it. You’re right,” he said with a wry smile, “logic means fuck-all in a situation like this. I just want some fucking control over my life.”

Aidan nodded in understanding. “Let me know if you need me to do something so that you can have control over at least some little things,” he suggested. “I’m not saying that choosing what to have for dinner is going to magically help, but making decisions about the weekend or something and then going through with them might give you a tiny bit of control, and that might help.” He knew that there were a lot of mights in that sentence, and that it was probably shitty advice, but he didn’t know of anything that would help Dean feel in control in more than just really small, kind of pointless ways.

“I’ll see if that helps at all,” Dean answered, clearly a little skeptical of the idea. “I want an easy way to feel better, but I have a feeling that that’s not going to happen. Fucking depression,” he muttered, fed up with his inability to feel better. “My problem is that half the things I would suggest to feel in control are impossible right now. I don’t feel comfortable going hiking, because I could fall down a hill or some shit if I seize, and just having that option taken away means I’m right back at no control.” He tipped his head back to rest it against the headrest and stare up at the ceiling of the car. “I’m too tired to do much anyway, so how the fuck am I supposed to have control? I can’t even stay awake half the time.”

“If you think of anything, we can do it,” Aidan promised. “What do you want to do today? I doubt you can sleep the whole day and night, so we might as well do something, even if it’s just curling up on the couch for half the day. Or, like, I can make you lunch. It’d be burned or undercooked or something, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Dean smiled weakly. “We can warm something up,” he said. “I love you and all, but you’re a pretty terrible cook. Or… I could make something?” he suggested hesitantly. “Maybe that would be a control thing? Okay, this therapist talked about getting control and I’m starting to realize that I don’t even know what the hell counts as controlling my own life.”

“Did she suggest any medication?” Aidan asked after a few moments of silence. “That might help, if you’re open to it. I mean, you don’t have to, and I know you already take a lot of meds, but…”

“She did,” Dean answered when he realized that his boyfriend was floundering for a way to finish his sentence. “We can pick it up at the pharmacy later today or tomorrow. Maybe later today? I know it takes a couple weeks for anti-depressants to start working to full capacity so I guess I should start it as soon as possible, because I need to be less depressed by yesterday.” He leaned forward and pressed the button to turn the radio on, not having the energy for a conversation long enough to take up the whole car ride. After a little while, though, he began to speak again. “How about I make some lunch and then you kiss me for a little while on the couch?” he suggested quietly.

Aidan smiled. “Sounds like a perfect afternoon,” he said, turning down their street.

“I just want to kiss, not have sex.”

“Cool, because you told me you weren’t into sex lately, and I don’t want you to try to force yourself into anything that you don’t really want,” Aidan replied. “You’re gorgeous, and I feel like you deserve to get kissed without ulterior motives a lot more. Guess that’s my fault, though,” he added with a grin. “I should work on my boyfriend skills.”

Dean shrugged. “I’m kind of a gigantically shitty boyfriend myself right now, with the huge mountains of depression and all.”

“That doesn’t make you a shitty boyfriend,” Aidan said firmly. “Was I a shitty boyfriend when I did that whole nearly dying thing? No. Sickness is sickness, babe.”

“Please try not to do that again,” Dean said, sliding a hand over to Aidan’s thigh; the memory of the night and subsequent day spent in the hospital made need comfort He had to keep telling himself that the younger man was alive so that he could try to move past the fear that had stubbornly clung to him since that night. “We are one medically fucked-up couple, aren’t we?” he said with a hollow attempt at a laugh.

Aidan nodded with a similarly humorless smile. “We are,” he agreed. “Can we have some sort of deal where neither of us ends up in the hospital again before you get that surgery?”

“I’m all for that,” Dean replied. “I think our families and friends would be happy about that too.”

“My parents are still freaking out about the meningitis,” Aidan said, pulling into their driveway. “I mean, it makes sense, ‘cause it was only a week and a half ago, but still. I did better at the story test when I retook it on Tuesday, so I think I’m better?” The last part seemed like a question, hanging in the air as he put the car in park and turned off the engine. “Okay, whether or not my ma ever believes I’m better, we still need to avoid getting hospitalized again.”

Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and walked into the house, Aidan following behind him. “What if I don’t get better?” he asked quietly as he took off his shoes by the door. “If I get this surgery and it doesn’t help, or… or if I’m not a candidate for some reason.” He flopped down on the couch desolately, unsure why these thoughts were coming to him so soon after what he had thought had been a successful therapy appointment, but he was struck once again with a wave of utter hopelessness. “What the fuck will there be left for me to do?”

Aidan sat on the edge of the couch, close to Dean’s knees, and reached out to rub the older man’s back. “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” he said softly, not quite sure what to say. “And there are two surgeries, so you could try the second one if the first doesn’t work. You can go to some of the really good hospitals outside of New Zealand, like the Mayo Clinic or something. They have some of the best neurologists in the world, and probably some epilepsy specialists. If everything goes horribly, which I really think it won’t, they can help.”

“How long does that last?” Dean asked, voice muffled by the fabric of the sofa beneath his face. “How long do I have to keep going before people let me admit that there isn’t any hope left? Years? I can’t take years, Aidan. I feel like I’m dying slowly, because every fucking seizure is pulling me apart bit by bit.” He sighed. “Fuck it. Let’s just make lunch and kiss like we talked about earlier. I’m so tired of feeling unhappy.”

“I was going to offer to cook, and then I realized that would probably just make you even more unhappy,” Aidan said with a tiny smile. “I’m bad at the food aspect of care and comfort.” He gently pulled Dean up by one arm, leaning the smaller man against his chest. “I love you,” he said softly, pressing his dry, chapped lips against his boyfriend’s temple. “Is cooking going to be therapeutic for you or should I make pasta?”

Dean swallowed audibly as he gathered up the motivation to move. “I’ll cook,” he said. Cooking was calming for him, and frankly pasta just felt like a depressing meal, as did anything from the freezer that he could throw in the microwave. He was depressed enough without meals like that. “How about I make some French toast?” he suggested tentatively; one of the most frustrating effects of depression was this constant feeling of not being good enough, which resulted in an overarching worry that he was disappointing everyone.

“That sounds amazing,” Aidan said enthusiastically, standing and pulling Dean up by the hand. “If you do that, I’ll make coffee or tea. Which do you want?”

After a moment of thought, Dean answered, “Tea.” He felt safer going with less caffeine. “That’s totally an equal amount of effort,” he teased with a hint of a grin, bumping his hip against Aidan’s—well, against Aidan’s thigh, since the younger man was taller—as they walked to the kitchen. “Um, so, can we be a little removed from everyone else for a bit?” he asked shyly. “I don’t want to fuck up your social life, but I don’t have the energy for being with our friends all the time. Spending hours pretending to be super happy is fucking exhausting, and I’m already so tired from how much we work.”

“No problem,” Aidan said, picking their electric kettle up off the counter and taking it to the sink to fill as Dean began to grab things from the refrigerator. “I like them, but even I feel like it’s a bit much to spend a lot of time with them during our off hours. We spend, like, at least twelve hours a day with them. That’s sixty hours a week. I’d prefer to spend my weekends with you.”

“Cool,” Dean said, leaning over and kissing Aidan’s cheek before getting out bowls and a pan. “And I’m so tired between work and seizing that even if being social weren’t so exhausting I probably wouldn’t want to hang out with them anyway.”

Aidan jumped up a little to sit on the counter, a few feet away from where Dean was mixing up the batter for the French toast. “Can I ask a totally inappropriate and random question?” he asked, hoping that he could distract Dean a little with the odd question that had just occurred to him.

The older man looked up from his whisking. “Uh, sure,” he said, a little nervous about what his boyfriend was going to ask.

“Have you ever had sex with a woman?” The Irishman knew that Dean had known he was gay since puberty, but he was nosy. Had there ever been experimentation, or some sort weird curiosity?

Dean had known that the question would be strange, but he definitely had not been expecting that. He blushed uncomfortably. “I tried once. It was… oh man. It was terrible for her. I have never seen anyone look so bored during sex. You know that first time we tried me on top, where you were barely hard? That was me. Even though vaginas are, you know, tight and wet and all, I’m not attracted to women at all, and I was drunk and awkward and had no idea what to do. I was eighteen and wondered if it would feel good, and when a girl came onto me at a party when I was at university, I went for it. I’d been drinking a lot, and she was, objectively, good-looking. Seriously, I don’t think you can imagine how terrible it was for both of us. Never again, babe. Never again.”

The younger man grinned; it wasn’t funny that Dean had, as a teenager, had what sounded like some of the worst sex ever, but he felt a little better about how rocky his start at gay sex had been. “My poor baby,” he said, leaning over to tousle his boyfriend’s hair. “I can’t imagine being soft in a girl.”

“You can’t overestimate how awful this was,” Dean said with a faint grin, starting to soak his bread as he turn on the stove to start his pan warming up. “That poor woman. Even guys who are into women are, from what I understand, kind of terrible at giving them orgasms, and I still managed to probably give her the worst sex she’d ever have.” He winced a little at the memory. “It’s been over ten years and I still feel guilty about it.”

Aidan leaned over to kiss Dean gently. “I don’t feel as bad about how badly I fucked you that first time. I’m pretty sure I had learned about the prostate, like, a week before,” he admitted wryly. “It was great for me, but I can’t imagine it was any good for you. At all.”

Dean shrugged, dropping the first piece of toast into the pan. “Eh, it could’ve been worse,” he said. “Seriously, after that time I tried to fuck a girl, I understood what it’s like to have sex with a different gender than usual. I was your first guy; at least you didn’t lose your boner after a couple minutes.” It was interesting to him that though he’d had no real desire for sex for a while, he was enjoying this entertaining conversation. “On the other hand, I really, really love you, Aid, but you were terrible at blowjobs for the first couple months.”

“Yeah, I know,” Aidan said, grinning as he slid off the counter, got out mugs, and poured hot water into them and added teabags. “I’m honestly kind of proud that I didn’t throw up in your lap the first time because of how badly I was gagging.” He took a sip of his tea and came up behind Dean to wrap his arms around the older man and sway gently, sliding one hand into his jeans pocket, just for the connection, rather than an attempt to arouse.

Pulling his first piece of toast out of the pan, Dean leaned back into his boyfriend’s chest. He put the next piece into the pan before softly moving out of Aidan’s embrace so that he could get some powdered sugar, which he sprinkled onto the finished piece along with butter. “I was pretty worried about that when you started. The noises you were making were pretty terrifying. It sounded like you were either going to vomit or choke to death.” He turned pressed a sweet kiss to the younger man’s lips before moving to the stove again to flip the toast over to keep cooking it. “Oh man, it was hard enough to tell your parents that you had meningitis. What if you’d had to call them to explain how you were hospitalized for choking on a dick?” he asked, smirking. Between cooking and conversation, he was wonderfully distracted.

“Fuck no,” Aidan said with a shudder. “Want me to get some berries out, babe?” he asked, getting out some raspberries when the other man nodded. “This is going to be good enough that I’ll forget about my struggles with dick-sucking. On the other hand, I always managed to get girls to come.”

Dean snorted. “You sure they weren’t faking? Because I’ve heard that a lot of women fake ‘em.” He paused to take the other piece of toast out of the pan and turn the stove off. “I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time talking about female orgasms,” he said as he put butter, powdered sugar, and berries on the toast before moving to the table.

“Well, if you ever decide to fuck a girl again for some unknown reason, like if someone held a gun to your head, you might know what you’re doing,” Aidan said philosophically, getting out silverware before sitting down with his boyfriend.

The older man made a face. “How about no,” he muttered, taking his teabag out of his mug and sipping some of the mint tea before cutting up his French toast. “Please don’t have any man-on-man-on-woman threesome fantasies. I adore you, but I don’t think I could do that.” Talking about theoretical future sex made him feel a bit better about his depression, thinking that he’d eventually want it again. “Also, I’m possessive. Even a three-guy threesome wouldn’t be my thing.”

“Good news: I’m bad at sharing too,” Aidan said, lightly kicking Dean’s foot under the table. “This is great,” he added once he had tried the French toast. “There’s a lot of reasons that I love you, but I’d, um, marry you for this cooking.”

Dean made a face. “Aid, I’m kind of sensitive about that fiasco. Can you hold off on the jokes about it for a while?”

“I’m not joking,” Aidan said softly. “Look, I know I’m a mess about coming out. I know that I sometimes seem like I’m not serious, but I realized earlier this week that I can’t live without you. Coming out is terrifying to me, but I’d rather get called some bullshit by arseholes than give you up because you want something serious and I was too chicken to go for what I want.” He smiled shyly. “I know it’s probably a bad time to say this, but I mean it.”

Dean stared at his boyfriend. “You’re actually in it for the long haul?” he said quietly. “That’s… that means a whole fucking lot right now. I feel like most guys would run a little when they find out their boyfriend is close to giving up, but you want to marry me.” He leaned over, across the corner of the table, and kissed Aidan’s sweet lips, tasting sugar and berries on them. “I don’t think I could ever deserve you, even if I spent the rest of my life teaching orphans with leprosy how to read the Bible.”

“You already deserve me. I’m kind of a twat, really, so you probably deserve someone better,” Aidan said with a grin. “I mean, you’re smart, funny, loving, and you’ve put up with a lot of hardship over your life and you’re not a bitter dickwad about it. Not just the epilepsy,” he added, “though that’s part of it. It’s getting made fun of for being epileptic and gay as a kid, for putting up with people’s obnoxious questions, and not taking any crap for it.” He blushed a little. “You’re a lot better than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

Dean chewed his lip a little in the face of all the compliments. “Even though I fucked up the first time topping and you now know that I failed at giving a girl an orgasm that one time?” he asked, smirking a little. “Hey,” he said softly as Aidan shrugged, looking a bit awkward. “I was serious when I talked about marrying you. Even if we don’t get married for a few years, maybe after I recover from my surgery we should take a ‘honeymoon’ thing. Just go to the beach or something without anyone else and not do anything like camping because fuck camping, but snuggle and have sex and kiss in the sunset.”

“Sounds literally perfect,” Aidan said with a grin. “Even though you hate camping, I’ll save you with my tent skills if there’s an apocalypse,” he promised, taking a break from talking to finish up his French toast. “That, darling, is love. Saving your sorry, terrible at camping arse when the world ends. That and giving up all my dreams of threesomes with vaginas.”

“It’s not vaginas I’m not into,” Dean corrected. “It’s women. Trans guys have vaginas too, Aid, and I’m cool with that. It’s just ladies that I’m not attracted to.” He stood up and took both of their plates over to the sink to rinse off before sticking them in the dishwasher. “How about we take our tea over to the couch to watch a movie and kiss a little?” he suggested, heading over to the shelves that held their DVDs as well as a bunch of the books that they had each brought with them and looked through them for a little while before picking out _Iron Man_ and popping it into the DVD player. It wasn’t the most romantic movie to kiss to, but it was still fun.

“Ooh, superheroes,” Aidan said cheerfully as Dean navigated the menu and got the movie started, wrapping an arm around the older man as he leaned into Aidan’s chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, both of them warm from tea. “Beautiful,” he whispered, moving his head down to kiss the older man’s neck, just sweetly instead of his usual horny sucking and biting.

Dean ran a hand through Aidan’s soft, curly hair before just scratching lightly over the younger man’s scalp. “I might take a shower after the movie,” he said after a little while, feeling unromantic but also just comfortable and domestic.

“I’ll take one after you,” Aidan said against Dean’s neck, pulling his lips away to just lean his head comfortably against the New Zealander’s shoulder. “It’s cold enough that I’m just going to sit in the steam for as long as I can.” He neglected to mention his plan of fingering himself open until he came all over his own stomach; if his boyfriend didn’t want to have sex, he probably didn’t want any serious discussions about sex. Joking about terrible sex was one thing, but talking about his actual horniness was going to be too much. On the other hand… “Can I ask an actual sex question? That’s a real question, not rhetorical, because if you don’t want to talk about it, I don’t have to ask.”

“Ask away,” Dean said, half paying attention to his boyfriend and half paying attention to Tony Stark onscreen.

Aidan turned bright red. “Can I…” he trailed off into mumbling. He knew he had to repeat himself when the older man just raised an eyebrow. “Can I borrow a… a…” Oh, for fuck’s sake, he dated and fucked and loved Dean, he should be able to say this. “A dildo,” he finished, somehow getting even redder.

Dean couldn’t help but grin at Aidan’s awkwardness. “I don’t want to have sex,” he explained. “It’s cool to ask things like that, as long as you’re not asking me to fuck or trying to pressure me into it like a douchebag. The answer is yes,” he added, realizing he hadn’t actually answered yet. “They’re in the back of the closet somewhere. Just choose one and do whatever you want. I’m not going to watch or anything, though.”

“Duh,” Aidan said, kissing the blond man’s temple. “I’m going to use it in the shower.”

“No, you aren’t,” Dean said, feeling like he was kind of tutoring Aidan about sex toys. “You can’t put oil-based lube up an orifice, like an arse or vagina, and water-based lube is just going to wash away. Not to put any weird pressure on you, but I can stay down here and you can do it in bed or whatever. You just don’t want a dildo going up inside you with nothing but water.” He leaned into the younger man a little more heavily. “Do you need some more explicit directions? Are you confused about the entire concept?” he teased.

Aidan groaned in embarrassment. “I know the basics,” he protested. “Fake dick goes in real arse. Yay, good job, Aidan! I’ve just never had to figure out specifics like whether or not you can do it in the shower. Also, I’ve only seen dildos in porn and that one time I saw yours for about two seconds by a mistake. I didn’t want to snoop so I put them back without really looking closely.”

Taking pity on his embarrassed boyfriend, Dean decided to honestly help him. “Okay, if you want one that’s the most realistic, the blue one has a good texture that feels kind of like real flesh, and it’s a pretty normal length,” he explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “The red one that’s kind of knobby is a really cool texture that you’re never going to get from a real cock, so it’s pretty fun in that regard. The other one is a glass one, which is kind of cold at first, but is super pretty and has that cool swirl ridge around the whole thing.”

Still blushing, Aidan managed to ask, “Which is your favorite?”

“Eh, it depends,” Dean said, honest as always. “Probably either the blue one or the glass one. The red one is interesting, but I like the overall texture and slide of the other ones. Glass is really cool, but I’m not sure how much of a ‘baby’s first dildo’ it is.”

“Fuck off,” Aidan muttered, willing his face to stop burning. “Thanks, though,” he added, genuinely grateful that Dean was willing to talk him through this without making fun of him for needing a bit of guidance. “I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable for you with your disinterest in sex or your, uh, lack of libido, but I wasn’t sure if the internet would help me enough.”

Dean snorted. “It would be kind of adorable if you searched ‘how to use a dildo in the butt’ on Google,” he admitted. “I’d have to exercise a lot of restraint to not tell everyone about it, though.”

Feeling less embarrassed, Aidan kissed Dean’s hair. “Should I go now, or, like, what?”

“It depends on how into this movie you are,” Dean answered. “You can if you want, because I’ll be watching this for the next hour or whatever, and if I stop being distracted by the movie, I can call my brother or someone to talk.” He smiled a little. “You have my permission to fantasize about me all you want. Or about girls. Whatever you want, babe.”

Face burning once more from both the instruction to fantasize and the fact that Dean knew exactly what he was going to do, Aidan stood up. “I’ll, uh, come down later?” he said awkwardly, walking out of the living room and heading up the stairs. It was pretty easy to find his boyfriend’s box of dildos in the back of the closet. He remembered what the plastic container looked like from when he had accidentally found them months earlier, and he pulled it out and looked at the three toys with a discerning eye. He picked up the glass one in one hand and the blue, more realistic one in the other. It took practically no time at all to put the glass one back, because it was too intimidating. He was too much of a newbie to sex toys to be able to try something so textured, and something more realistic was more within his comfort zone.

He pulled off his clothes, feeling a little silly. Having been with Dean for a year, he honestly hadn’t masturbated in a damn long time. Trying not to be self-conscious, since he was alone and Dean had the television on and wouldn’t hear anything, he put the dildo on the bed and dug out the lube before lying down. He debated whether or not to open up his computer and put on some porn, but decided not to; he wasn’t sure about the positioning of fucking himself while simultaneously looking at his computer. “For fuck’s sake, Turner, you’ve wanked before,” he muttered to himself, trying to talk himself out of his discomfort. He slid under the covers, sure that he would be even more embarrassed if he were on top of the comforter. He bent his knees and slid down on his back before spreading some lube on his fingers and reaching them down. Although he didn’t do this often, he was pretty accustomed to opening himself up on his fingers, and he pressed one in pretty easily, biting his lip. It was an ingrained habit to jerk off quietly, having started this while living at home.

After a little while of wiggling his finger inside himself while rubbing another around the rim, he managed to carefully push the second finger in, sighing softly as he adjusted to the pressure. Bottoming was still pretty new to him, but he was growing to like it, and he was curious to see how it would feel to completely control the speed and strength of the thrusts. When he realized that his cock was hardening very slowly, he lubed up his hand and began to pull and massage at the slightly stiff flesh. “Okay, yeah,” he whispered to himself, feeling pleasure slowly starting to build within him. He slipped a third finger into himself as soon as he felt ready, and he hissed at the intrusion that was probably a bit too soon, but he wanted to try that dildo. Once he was fully hard, he let go of his cock and let his slick hand fall to the bed, wanting to drag this out long enough to enjoy the toy.

Knowing at adding a finger too early was very, very different than getting a whole dick—in this case, a fake dick—in too early, Aidan was careful to spend a fairly long time scissoring his fingers inside himself. It would be a shame, he decided, to ignore his boyfriend’s earnest advice, and he shut his eyes to all himself to fantasize. He waffled a little between imagining Dean, a woman, a man, or some sort of porn scenario before choosing his boyfriend. Man, he was clearly very much in love with the older man if he was electing to fantasize about him when he could choose anyone, and when he’d had sex probably hundred of time with him. “Damn, Dean,” he muttered, chewing at his lip as he thought, at first, just about the blond naked in the shower.

It was a completely irrefutable fact that Dean was absolutely gorgeous with water running over his golden skin and over his perfect ass, sliding down his hips and into his public hair to drip off his dick. Fuck, he had gone from staunchly straight to thinking about water dripping off another man’s flaccid dick while he jerked off. He really should have realized that he wasn’t straight a long time ago. He pried his fingers apart with more purpose, needing himself to be ready as soon as possible so that he could actually try this whole dildo thing.

“Okay,” Aidan said to himself, deciding to just fucking do this, so that he wouldn’t have time to get nervous. His free hand was still slick with extra lube, and he used that hand to pick the toy up, sliding lube up and down the whole surface, feeling the almost squishy exterior that covered the firm shaft. The outer layer was almost like the skin of an actual cock, and that made the dildo far less intimidating than a glass one of regular one would have been. He took a deep breath and pressed the tip of the blue toy into himself slowly, letting out a loud gasp at the feeling. It was strange to feel something inside of him that wasn’t as warm as a real erection, but it wasn’t cold the way Dean had described the glass dildo as being.

Sinking the toy further into his body, he let out a quiet groan and shut his eyes so that he could imagine his boyfriend panting above him, his face pinched in pleasure that was unique, a wonderful expression so different compared the one he wore when bottoming. Aidan felt a little silly, though, as he pushed the dildo in deeper and realized he had no idea how to stimulate his prostate from this awkward angle. He wiggled the toy around inside of him, hoping to hit the small bundle of nerves that he had recently come to love.

“Fuck!” he grunted, twitching his hips up when he finally found it, inadvertently thrusting the dildo the rest of the way in. He couldn’t be sure, but it felt a little bigger than Dean’s cock, and that felt… strange. The only thing he’d ever had inside him, other than fingers, was Dean, and anything different was just odd. It wasn’t bad, though, and that was good enough to make him keep going.

Aidan lifted his free hand off the bed and wrapped it around his erection; the prostate was a great gland and all, but it wasn’t enough to get him off without a little help. Arching his back, he thrust the dildo into his body a little faster. It made his wrist ache a little, but the stimulation was worth it. He squirmed against the bed, the sheets sticking to his back a little as he began to sweat, thanks to exerting himself while lying under blankets. Tightening his grip around his cock, he began to work himself in earnest. He thrust his hips back against the dildo, squeezing his eyes shut a little tighter as he thought about how Dean’s face would look at this point, the way that he would bite his lip and pant wildly as he tried to stave off his orgasm to give Aidan pleasure first. The stimulation inside of him was becoming too much, and he was reaching a point where he simply _had_ to come or he thought he would explode.

With a gasp, he dragged the pad of his thumb over the slit of his hard cock, gathering the moisture there and providing himself with a shock of pained pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned, twitching his hips and shoving the dildo deeper into himself a few more times before coming over his own hand, letting go of the toy as it became too much. He let his head fall back against the pillows under him, breathing hard. It wasn’t as good as getting fucked by a real live human being—specifically Dean—but it was still good. Really good. He pulled the dildo out of himself and let it fall to the bed, feeling vaguely guilty as he wiped his semen-covered hand over the sheets. At least he’d done this on his own side of the bed, so his boyfriend wouldn’t have to sleep in the wet spot. He stood up on shaky legs, feeling a twinge of pain inside of his body, and stumbled into the bathroom to wash off the toy in the sink.

Downstairs, Dean heard the water running and assumed that meant the younger man had finished his… activities, and he snuggled a little deeper into the couch to keep watching the movie. He was feeling cold, and hoped Aidan would come down so that he curl into the man to warm up. “Hey,” he said quietly a few minutes later, hearing footsteps approaching from behind the couch.

“Hey,” Aidan replied, sitting on the couch by Dean’s feet. “You look like you’re freezing,” he said, sounding a little worried, and he dragged the blond up into a sitting position to wrap his arms around him. “You okay?”

Dean shrugged. “Eh,” he answered, sounding completely despondent. “Just feeling shitty and tired. It’s weird, ‘cause I was feeling okay earlier, and then I completely crashed back into depression because my brain and body fucking hate me.”

Aidan felt horribly guilty at that point; he had left for twenty or so minutes, and in that time Dean had gone from a relatively neutral emotional state back into depression. All because he was horny. Fuck. “Babe,” he whispered, pressing his lips gently to his boyfriend’s temple. “Do you want to just got to bed?” he asked, not sure what could possibly help at this point.

The older man wrinkled his nose. “You smell like come,” he muttered, sounding none too pleased about that. “I guess the bed does too, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” Aidan murmured. “Look, this wasn’t fucking worth it. I’m sorry, this was a crappy idea and I shouldn’t have done it, it was selfish and I fucked it all up.” He sighed softly, nuzzling gently into the older man’s neck. “I’ll change the sheets and we can go to bed. Tomorrow’s Sunday and we can sleep in or whatever the hell you want to do.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s not your fault,” he said tiredly. “I encouraged it. I didn’t know I’d feel gross just smelling it or that I’d fucking relapse into the extreme depression. It’s shit, because I can’t tell what’s going to trigger the worst of it, you know? Something happens and I go from feeling a little unhappy to being in the worst of it. What the fuck?”

“It’s not your fault. Depression isn’t logical,” Aidan said in as soothing a tone as he could muster. “Here, finish the movie, and I’ll change the sheets and shower really quickly, and then we could go to bed.” When Dean nodded, Aidan headed up the stairs, efficiently stripping the sheets and dropping them in the small laundry room so that they would be out of the bedroom. He struggled a little with the fitted sheet before managing to get it on mostly correctly, and he messily got the top sheet and the comforter on top of that. With the bed finished, he stripped off his clothes and hopped into the shower, washing himself quickly and attempting to ignore the twinge inside his body from the dildo.

He pulled on pajama pants and headed down the stairs, finding Dean shivering on the couch. “Babe, you should’ve gotten a blanket,” he said softly, picking up the remote and turning off the television. “Come on, let’s go to bed,” he added, gently pulling on Dean’s upper arm to get him to stand up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently porn ends depressingly now too. this is why my other story is currently filled with rampant fluff and cheerfulness. I've got to balance out.


	40. Important things occur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have surgery on Wednesday. It's a minor procedure (only a couple of hours), but, still, surgery. I'd appreciate any good thoughts and/or prayers to whatever god/goddess/entity you believe in, if you have the time and the inclination <3

Dean woke up with a splitting headache, a wave of nausea, and Aidan’s worried face staring down at him. His flannel pajama pants were stuck to his legs, and he shivered as the sweat that coated his body cooled in the winter air that managed to permeate their house. “I—“ he started to groan, but he trailed off into coughing, hands flying up toward his throat and mouth as he felt like he was going to vomit, and soon.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Aidan said softly, moving out of Dean’s field of vision and returning with a glass of water just a few seconds later, pulling the Kiwi into a sitting position. “Can you take a deep breath for me?” he begged. “You stopped breathing for a few seconds during that seizure, and it was pretty damn long. Are you… shite, I know that face. Two seconds!” He jumped out of bed and grabbed a trash can that he slid under his boyfriend’s face just in time for the older man to vomit into. “Babe, babe…” he whispered, rubbing the older man’s back soothingly. “When you have a second, take two deep breaths for me, yeah? You need some oxygen or you’re going to pass out.”

After expelling everything he had eaten the day before and coughing up a bit of stomach acid, Dean slumped forward, his forehead resting against the edge of the trash can as he gasped for breath, hot tears rolling down his face. He wasn’t sure if they were tears of emotion, of exhaustion, or of the physical exertion of vomiting, but regardless of the cause, they dripped into his lap. He could feel Aidan’s hand rubbing small circles over his sweaty back, but he was too tired and sick and stressed to sit up straighter. While he couldn’t have been sure of the reason for his original tears, the ones that came next were of emotion and pain, and he slumped to the side and leaned against Aidan’s strong shoulder and chest.

“I know, babe,” the younger man whispered, feeling awful for his boyfriend. “Just let it out, okay? It’s three, so you’ve got a lot of time to go back to sleep, and tomorrow isn’t even a work day. Do you need tea or… or something?” he asked, not sure what could really help. Judging by the way the older man shook his head against his chest, Dean didn’t know either. “Okay, we’re just going to stay here, then.” He continued to rub his boyfriend’s back, feeling the sweat dry on cool skin, and he pulled the blanket up to cover the older man’s shoulders and hopefully keep him warm. “Dean, love, I need you to breathe deeper, you sound like you’re hyperventilating,” he said after a few minutes, noticing that the Kiwi’s breath was not slowing down and sounded almost dangerously fast.

Despite being in the midst of crying somewhat hysterically, Dean also knew that his breathing was too fast. He pushed himself up into a better posture in an attempt to get as much air as possible into his lungs with each inhale. When he couldn’t slow down just by telling himself to do so, he held his breath for five counts before starting up again, which began at a more manageable speed.

“There we go,” Aidan said, sounding relieved. “When you can, I want you to tell me how you feel, yeah? That was a bad seizure and you threw up and everything was really bad.”

It took over five minutes before Dean calmed down enough to talk. “Thanks for the bin,” he said, voice raspy from vomiting and crying.

Aidan let out a surprised laugh. “That’s what you have to say?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s it?” He kissed Dean’s temple gently. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” the older man admitted, tear tracks drying on his face. He was pretty sure that he had only stopped crying because between sweat, urine, and previous tears, his body was completely out of moisture. “I’m really done, Aidan. I’m just really fucking done.”

“I know,” Aidan said softly, running a hand through Dean’s hair. “Do you want a shower?” He couldn’t think of a tactful way to bring up the fact that his boyfriend was covered in piss, sweat, shit, and a bit of vomit. “You might feel a little better with hot water, and you can just sit down in the tub. I can sit in the bathroom if you are worried about hurting yourself in there.”

Dean groaned. “I should,” he mumbled, but he didn’t move. “Fuck knows our bed and bin need to be washed, but I can’t. I can’t do it.” Huh. Turned out his body did have some moisture left, because tears began to slip out of the corners of his eyes and soak into Aidan’s chest hair. He was sitting there, crying over the thought of taking a shower, and he couldn’t stop.

“You don’t have to do it now, love,” Aidan said immediately. “Sit here and get some energy.” He was pretty sure that Dean hadn’t only been talking about the showering when he said that he couldn’t, but he didn’t know how to comfort him about the rest of his life. “We can stay here for as long as you need, and I’ll do anything you need me to.” He wanted to go wash out their trash can, because it had an ungodly amount of vomit in it—to be honest, though, he viewed any amount of vomit as ungodly—but it was obviously far more important to stay with his distraught boyfriend.

“Fuck,” Dean whispered against the Irishman’s chest. “Why? Why can’t I just have one weekend that doesn’t go to fucking shit?”

Aidan decided that gentle hair-stroking wasn’t enough, and he instead embraced the other man closely, holding him by the shoulders with one arm and using his other hand to cradle his head. “Just keep breathing, babe, keep breathing,” he said softly, trying to keep his boyfriend from getting hysterical. “It’s awful and you’re miserable and in pain, I know, but you’ve got to keep breathing for me, Deano.” He let out a soft sigh of relief when he felt the older man’s chest expand in his arms with a deep breath. “Good, love, that’s good.”

After a couple more minutes, Dean felt all the fight seep out of him. He was exhausted and in so much fucking pain, but he was out of tears and felt almost numb because he had spent so long breaking down. “I guess I should shower,” he muttered, shoving himself out of Aidan’s arms and sitting up on his own, curled in on himself as he realized, with embarrassment, that he had managed to get approximately half of the possible fluids from his body onto their bed. If he added blood, semen, and mucus, it would be the whole set. “I’m sorry,” he said, tugging his knees toward his chest.

“For fuck’s sake, what are you apologizing for?” Aidan asked, tentatively putting a hand on his boyfriend’s damp thigh. “You just went through hell, babe. Do you want some help showering?”

Dean shook his head. “I’ll figure it out myself,” he told his boyfriend, standing up on shaky legs and miserably shuffling into the bathroom. “I’ll clean things up when I’m done,” he called over his shoulder.

Over Aidan’s dead body would Dean have to clean their bed when he got out of the shower. He stood up and began to make a plan of attack, because it looked like some sort of natural disaster had hit their bed. He was suddenly very glad that their laundry room, small as it was, had a tub sink, because he could start out by washing the vomit out of the trash can. It was something, and something was better than nothing. He put the little plastic bin back in the corner, and stripped the sheets and blankets off of the bed and dragged them into the laundry room. They were gross enough that he didn’t want to just throw them into the washing machine, so he stoppered the tub sink and dumped the whole mess in there to soak. He’d deal with it when it wasn’t 3:30 in the morning and he wasn’t worried that Dean was having another full-on meltdown in the shower. “Dean?” he called out softly, knocking gently on the door to the bathroom, which was slightly ajar, before going in.

“Yeah,” Dean called back listlessly. He was sitting on the floor of the shower, overly hot water pouring onto his skin and turning it a dark pink, and he didn’t fucking care. “Aid, no,” he said tiredly, seeing his boyfriend about to pick up his discarded clothes. “Just… no.”

 _Control_ , Aidan reminded himself, and did as he was told. He closed the toilet lid and sat down. “Do you need ibuprofen or anything after that?” he asked, knowing that the older man had to have a splitting headache at that point.

“Probably,” Dean answered. “I don’t think you’re supposed to take it on an empty stomach, though, and I’m not eating anything.” The last few words were said sharply, as though daring Aidan to try to challenge him.

The Irishman just nodded. “Tell me if you want some anyway,” he said. He’d read a few of those pop-psychology books, and even without them, he could guess what this was. Dean was testing him, testing to see how much control he actually had by trying to force Aidan into taking some of it away. Granted, he couldn’t remember why the books had claimed people did this, but he was sure there were reasons. “So, uh, we’re out of sheets,” he admitted sheepishly. “Which is what happens when we only own two sets. How did that even happen? We haven’t lived together this entire time, so how do we only have two sets? Did we each only have one set before? What the fuck?”

“It’s a two-bedroom house, dipshit,” Dean muttered, turning all his frustration and anger outward into being a jerk. He could tell that he was being a total asshole to his well-meaning, sweet boyfriend who was up at 3:30 and trying to help him, but he was mad at his life and the person there to take the brunt of it was Aidan. “There’s another fucking bed. I haven’t ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” Aidan corrected. “I was more worried about the idea that we possibly each only owned one set of sheets before moving in together. But, uh, yeah, other bedroom. We can definitely sleep there for the rest of the night, and I’ll figure out laundry in the morning. And maybe buy more sheets.”

With no small amount of effort, Dean managed to restrain himself from screaming at Aidan to _shut the fuck up about the fucking sheets_. Instead, he reached up a hand and turned off the shower, though he made no move to stand up, instead letting the hot water cool against his skin.

It broke Aidan’s heart to watch his boyfriend sit in the tub, shivering and making no move to get out. “Come on, love, you need to go to bed,” he said when he could no longer bear to see the older man trembling. “Sleep it off for as long as you need.” He pulled a towel off the hook where it had dried and wrapped it around the New Zealander as he helped him to stand up. He was pretty sure that Dean’s lack of movement was half postictal physical effects and half depression and anger and a storm of negative emotions. “Let’s go to bed.”

Dean let himself be tugged out of the shower and dried himself off mechanically, letting his hair drip all over as he stumbled out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, and into the second bedroom, where he had slept when fighting with Aidan. He flopped onto the bed without bothering to put any clothes on and fell asleep immediately.

In the bathroom, Aidan struggled with what he was supposed to do. He hung up the towel, but he was a little stuck on his boyfriend’s pajama pants. The older man had specifically told him not to deal with them, and Aidan knew that he needed control, but there was control and then there was leaving severely dirty laundry on the floor of the bathroom for hours. He felt stuck, and he sat down on the edge of the tub and tried to figure out what the fuck to choose. After a few moments, he realized he was completely exhausted; the adrenaline from waking up next to his boyfriend, terrified by the way he frequently stopped breathing, was wearing off and he needed to go to bed and collapse. With a groan, he dug a trash bag out of the cabinet and stuffed the pajama pants in there, wiped off the floor, and decided that one of them could deal with them when they next woke up.

Sore, tired, and sad, the Irishman went into the second bedroom and stripped out of his t-shirt and flannel pants, both of which had Dean’s bodily fluids all over them, and lay down, wrapping an arm around the older man just to remind himself that he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

By the time Dean awoke for the second time, his head still aching, he was alone in bed. It was a little confusing, because he was in the spare bedroom, naked on scratchy sheets, but he found cool tea and three loose painkiller pills. He swallowed the small red pills and washed them down with the tea before he stood up, feeling his muscles protest as he shuffled painfully into the main bedroom. The bed was stripped bare in there, and he could hear the laundry machine running in the next room. Groaning in pain, he leaned down and pulled some clothes out of the dresser and tugged them on. It was the weekend, he was exhausted, and he was depressed; there was no reason to even attempt to look nice, and he ended up in old sweatpants and a dark long-sleeved cotton shirt.

He found Aidan downstairs, where he was on his computer, typing away. “I’m…” Dean began, but he had no idea what the hell he wanted to say. “Things are really shit,” he finished tiredly.

“I know,” Aidan said softly, watching as his boyfriend sank down into a chair. “You were so miserable, and… honestly, I couldn’t understand before why you said you _need_ the surgery, but I saw why last night. You were in so much pain, babe, and I… darlin’,” he mumbled, also at a loss for words. “I don’t know how you’re surviving right now.”

“That makes two of us,” Dean said with a hollow, humorless laugh. “You know that it usually isn’t that bad, but it sometimes is. Most people don’t ever go through something that terrible, and it happens to me a few times a year. Sometimes I wake up and literally think I’m dying, and maybe one day that’s what’s going to happen. If you weren’t there to sit me up, I don’t know if I could’ve done that myself, and I would have choked on my own vomit.”

Aidan stood up and pressed a gentle kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead before wrapping his arms around the older man. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised in a quiet voice. “Just a couple more months and you can get this surgery. Things are really, really awful right now, and I know that, but you’re going to be safe until the surgery. Can we get some more of that emergency med from your neurologist? I don’t know about you, but I’d feel safer with that around. You stopped breathing for nearly ten seconds in there, and I couldn’t do anything.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow and ask about it,” Dean promised tiredly, disentangling himself from Aidan’s arms so that he could click on the electric kettle to make himself tea, and then started to look through the refrigerator for something to eat. “Can I get this surgery when we’re done filming? What about re-shoots and other stuff in post? The premieres and tours, those are—“

“Your health is about a million times more important than that,” Aidan interrupted, sitting back down in his chair. “There are wigs and doubles for re-shoots, so if you’ve got your head shaved and aren’t as athletic for a while, whatever. Nobody in their right mind can blame you if you skip some press or whatever for having fucking surgery. People don’t know this, and they don’t have to know, but you feel like your options are skipping out on some crap and having a shaved head with a scar or killing yourself. Surgery is the only choice for you, and fuck anyone who says otherwise.”

Finding some strawberry yogurt in the refrigerator, Dean leaned against the counter to eat as he waited for the water to heat up for tea. “I get that logically, and I know that Peter isn’t going to blame me, and nor will anyone else, but I still feel like the entire world is going to think I’m weak. I know, weird epilepsy self-esteem issues,” he added, grabbing a mug and a teabag when the kettle clicked.

“Even if there are complete arseholes who judge you for it, it’s still worth it, babe,” Aidan said softly. “When you call your neurologist about the med, you should get the ball rolling on that surgery. It’s going to take a little while, but if you can start scheduling your consults and everything, you might be able to get it right after we finish here. I bet there’s a place in Wellington, and…”

“I am not doing this surgery in fucking Wellington,” Dean muttered. “Wellington might be all right for you, because it rains fucking all the time in Ireland, but I refuse to have surgery in this hellhole.”

Aidan raised his eyebrows. “How did I not know that you hate Wellington with a burning passion?”

“Auckland is better,” Dean said flatly, and his lips twitched up into a smile. “I mean it, I’m not having surgery here. It’s not the weather,” he explained, “but my neurologist is in Auckland, and so is my family. If I’m going to have brain surgery, I need a support system, and even if my family came down here for the surgery, it wouldn’t be the same. There wouldn’t be the same network, nobody would be able to relax even a little if they’re living out of a hotel room when I’m in the hospital.”

“Fair enough,” Aidan conceded as the older man sat back down at the table. “The weather here isn’t _that_ bad, though.”

Dean gave his boyfriend an unimpressed look. “See, no, that’s because growing up in Ireland gave you a warped idea of what weather is supposed to be. Weather is supposed to be nice and happy and not full of rain that hits you sideways. I know this is a confusing concept, babe, but there’s this thing called the ‘sun’ and it’s really nice to see it.”

Snorting, Aidan gently shoved at Dean’s shoulder. “Fuck off,” he protested. “I know what the sun is. We all told wistful stories of it while trying not to drown in puddles back in Dublin.” He was happy to see his boyfriend laugh; it was short sound, and clearly shocked the older man too, but it was a laugh. “It was hard, of course, to make up fantastical tales about something we had never seen, but we believed with all our little hearts, and then the leprechauns showed it to us.”

“See, that was a mean leprechaun trick, because then you knew what you were missing,” Dean said, shaking his head. “That’s leprechauns for you.” He paused. “I understand fuck-all about leprechauns, but they’re tricky little bastards, right? Is that a thing?”

Aidan nodded. “They are the reason you lose socks in the wash,” he said seriously, kissing Dean’s nose before grinning and standing up to wash off the plate that he had used for breakfast toast. “Are you still feeling sick?”

The older man shrugged. “My head still hurts, but it’s going away. I’ll be fine. I’m not going to do much today, but I probably wasn’t going to anyway,” he admitted, pushing his half-eaten yogurt away from him. He didn’t have the appetite for it, and he didn’t feel like forcing himself to eat. After a long and painful seizure, even having slept it off after, he was sapped of energy, and, with his depression, he didn’t really have that in spades anyway.

“That’s fine,” Aidan said, hoping Dean realized that there was no pressure to act like nothing was wrong, or to do as much as he physically could. “My only plan is to do laundry, so I’m mostly just going to sit around. We can sit around together, if you want company. If you want to be alone, though, I can do my own thing, I’m not trying to be overbearing or whatever,” he added hurriedly, worried that he was encroaching on his boyfriend’s private time.

Dean gave him a strained half-smile. “It’s fine,” he said honestly. “I’ll tell you if I need some time alone. As long as you don’t try to talk with me all day or anything, I’ll be okay.” He put a hand down on the table and pushed himself into a standing position, walking two feet to throw the yogurt container and his teabag into the trash before draining the last of his tea and sticking the mug and yogurt spoon into the dishwasher. “I should… is there anything from, uh, earlier that I should deal with?” he asked uncomfortably.

“Um,” Aidan began hesitantly. “Last night, when you were getting in the shower, you told me not to deal with your pajamas, so I just put them in a bag and left them, because I wanted to respect your choices but if you want me to get them into the laundry with everything else, I can do that easily.”

Sighing, Dean shook his head. “I’ll do it. Give me a few minutes to get them and I’ll start the laundry. It’s my mess to clean,” he explained flatly when Aidan opened his mouth to protest. “I can do it.” He sighed quietly before trudging up the stairs, through their bedroom, and into the bathroom. He cleaned up on autopilot, and soon had a load of soiled clothes and sheets in the washing machine. With his hands against the cold metal of the appliance, he took two deep breaths before he went back downstairs and dropped on the couch next to his boyfriend.

Aidan wordlessly wrapped an arm around the older man, his free hand turning the pages of the magazine on his lap. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean pick up a book and start reading it slowly. He was relatively sure that neither of them were actually reading, but it was a comforting charade to keep up. Besides, reading a couple sentences per minute was still more entertaining than staring at the wall in silence.

“I’m… my therapist said I need to do things I used to enjoy,” Dean began awkwardly after around half an hour of pretend reading. “Do you mind if I take some photos around here? I don’t have the energy to plan and execute something, uh, real or professional or anything, but I might just sort of go around the house with my camera.”

Looking up from his magazine, Aidan smiled. “That sounds like it’d be really good for you, babe,” he said, glad to hear Dean taking the initiative to do something that might be helpful. “Any idea of a theme or whatever for it?”

Dean shrugged, clearly thinking. “It’s not something I’m going to show, so I could just do my life with epilepsy. I don’t know. I’ll start with that and see where it goes,” he said quietly, pressing a soft kiss onto Aidan’s forehead before he padded upstairs, looking through his stuff for a moment before finding his camera. After loading it with film, he started where he already was: their bedroom. It was an utter shit-show, but that was his life at that moment. He started by snapping a photograph of their bed, which had dirty blankets with no sheets, and completely scattered bedside tables. It didn’t look good, but it was his life. He couldn’t hide from his own life, not anymore. His next stop for photography was the bathroom, which had towels strewn around, but wasn’t that bad. He popped into the spare bedroom and the laundry room, and then stumbled down the stairs, trying to encapsulate the hopelessness and frustration of his life in a few pictures.

To finish off his photography session, Dean wandered into the living room and took a couple pictures of his boyfriend, who barely glanced up from his magazine until the older man sat his camera on the coffee table and sank down onto the couch once more.

“Did that make you feel better at all?” Aidan asked softly, putting his magazine on the table and turning toward Dean.

“I think so?” Dean answered uncertainly. “It was pretty cathartic to take the photos and just confront the fact that this is my life. Our bed looks like shit, our laundry room is filled with clothes and bedding and sometimes literally smells like shit, and our house is overall a complete mess, but I have a different perspective through the lens. When I just look at our house, I see everything as my failing, but when I’m photographing it, I can step back and understand that our bedroom looks like shit because our lives are kind of shit.”

Aidan sighed happily when Dean leaned into him tiredly. “Perspective is a really good thing,” he said, kissing the older man’s soft hair. “You’re hard on yourself, and if you take off all that pressure, you’d see how wonderful and gorgeous and beautiful you are.”

Feeling a little uncomfortable with all the praise—his depression had stolen a fair amount of his self-esteem—Dean ducked his head, smiling a little to himself. “Only to you,” he mumbled.

“I bet everyone else sees it, but I’m the only one who gets to cuddle all this perfection,” Aidan replied cheerfully, kissing his boyfriend’s temple when the older man sort of sank into him. “I bet I could find entire forums on the internet dedicated to discussing how amazing you are and how much the various posters want to curl up with you,” he added in a teasing tone. “All of them can suck a dick, though, because I’m the only one who gets that.”

Dean snorted, the sudden, crude remark throwing him off balance. “Aid,” he groaned, shaking his head against the younger man’s chest. “You’re such a gross person. What would your mother say?”

“Well, I wouldn’t tell my ma to suck a dick, that’s for sure,” the Irishman muttered, laughing softly. “I’m planning to talk to my parents on Skype in a couple days,” he added, “and I think I’ll talk to them about staying here in New Zealand for at least a few months once we finish filming. We’re going to have to do a lot of planning about a long-distance thing, or, uh, one of us moving, but I want you healthy and comfortable and safe before you have to think about that again. I just need to let my parents know that I’m staying on the other side of the planet for a little while longer.”

Nodding against Aidan’s warm body, Dean said, “I think we’ll be able to think through our decisions about moving or keeping it long distance when we aren’t having to think about my safety or anything like that. And, like, once I have the surgery and have managed to sleep consistently for a week or so, I won’t be as much of an emotional mess and maybe I’ll be able to talk about moving or being long-distance without melting down.”

“I sort of hope not,” Aidan admitted. “If it turns out all of your stress and emotional stuff is from epilepsy, then you’ll realize that I’m too immature for you,” he teased, reaching a hand up to scratch gently over the older man’s scalp. “Don’t get too mature and perfect and break my heart, Deano.”

Smiling faintly, the New Zealander leaned a little further back into Aidan’s chest. “You’re really okay with staying here for my surgery and recovery? I know that I’m needy and I’ve asked you to stay, but you’ve got a life outside of this country and it’s not your job to babysit me during surgery and recovery, because my family is here so you don’t have to—“

Aidan stopped scratching Dean’s head to flick it gently. “Seriously? I’m not staying because I feel forced to or anything, but because I love you and want to be here for you. You know that, somewhere beneath all your anxiety and self-worth problems, right?” he said softly, kissing his boyfriend’s earlobe. “I’ll spend a whole day freaking out in the waiting room during the surgery, and then I’ll be with you in rehab for every moment that you and the doctors let me.”

“That’d be nice,” Dean said softly. “I love you, and you’ll be twenty times more bearable than my parents during recovery.” He heard and felt Aidan snort behind him. “It’s true! Most people think you never shut up, but you’re good at being quietly or silently supportive when I need it, and I know that my parents are going to be sitting around asking me how I feel every ten seconds. You’ll just get up on the bed with me and hold me if I need it.”

“You can always tell me if I need to shut up and do the quiet support thing, yeah?” Aidan told the older man. “Fuck knows I’m annoying sometimes, and if I’m anxious about you, I might be even worse. But, like you can always make me shut the hell up. During recovery, it’s all about you, so you can just order me around as much as you want.”

Dean tilted his head back to look up at Aidan’s face. “You should be careful making promises like that,” he teased. “I might take them to heart and abuse my power after surgery. I’ll make you do all sorts of things, just because I can.” He sighed softly. “I’m scared to get this surgery, but I’m scared to go through the next three months without it. Fuck.”

“It’s going to be okay, babe,” Aidan promised quietly. “It’s going to be okay.”

* * *

“It’s going to be okay,” the Irishman said firmly, sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed and stroking over the older man’s shaved head. “We’ve read a ton of reports on your surgeon, and she’s really good. She’s done this surgery a fair amount of times before and she’s always had good results.” He bent down and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead tenderly. “We’ll see you on the other side, okay?”

Dean chewed his lip, feeling the anxiety in his chest settle a little; it wasn’t abating, but it wasn’t creeping up anymore. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his eyes darting around the bright white room, from Aidan to his parents to the machines to Aidan again. “It’s going to be a while, so, uh, make sure you have something to eat while I’m in there, okay? And… and you should get up and walk around a few times, because you shouldn’t just sit around for hours on end, that’s bad for you.”

“We’ll be fine,” his mother promised, gently patting her son’s leg in comfort. “You just relax. As soon as you’re done, we’ll be here waiting for you.” She looked up as the doctor came into the room. “Good luck, sweetie,” she said, reaching up and cupping his cheek.

“You’re going to do great,” his father said, bending down to give him a hug. “We’ll see you in a couple hours.”

With a faint smile, Aidan leaned down and kissed Dean softly. “I love you,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to see how happy you’re going to be after this.”

Dean nodded, giving his loved ones an awkward grimace of a smile before looking up at the ceiling as he was rolled out of the room and down the halls toward the operating room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm sort of sorry for this cliff-hanger but not, like, _that_ sorry


	41. Surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! My surgery went super well. Thanks for all the support, prayers, and well-wishes from everyone :) I finished this chapter yesterday, with a bit more insight into recovery. Third day is the worst. I had to ask my mom to clean my vomit off the floor on my birthday, didn't sleep, and had a week straight of bad hair. I'm feeling really good now, though, even though I have like twenty staples in my stomach. In response to a worry that someone brought up in the comments--surgery doesn't mean this story will end! It will just change some. Writing my two stories is helping keep me grounded and stuff :D

Aidan was pretty sure he was going to throw up. He had chosen a seat near a trash bin for the express purpose of having a receptacle should that happen, and he was not regretting that choice in the slightest. His hands were clammy and he had bitten his lower lip so much that it had started bleeding half an hour earlier, and it still stung. In his lap, his hands twisted together anxiously, and he wondered how he was going to survive the rest of the time that Dean was in the OR.

“I’m sure he’s doing fine,” Christine said quietly, patting his knee soothingly from where she sat at his left side. “They would come out and tell us if anything were wrong. It’s been a couple hours, so why don’t you stand up and move around a little? Go make yourself some tea over there,” she instructed, pointing to a little station with a stack of disposable cups, a hot water machine, and assorted teabags. “Either Lance or I will go pick up some food, and we can have some lunch and try to keep calm, okay?”

Nodding numbly, Aidan stood up and walked over to the tea station, mechanically making himself a cup. His hands shook, but he managed to get everything in the cup without burning himself on the water. With his hot cup, he sat back down in his original seat. He was sure he looked as stressed and despondent as he felt, but everyone else in the waiting room was in the same boat. “So, um, how… how are you feeling?” he asked Lance after a few seconds; Christine had elected herself to get food for them, and the two men were left alone in the waiting room.

Lance chuckled a little at the question, knowing the discomfort that led to such bad small talk. “I’m okay,” he answered. “I know you’re worried, and I am too, but Dean’s strong. He’ll be out of there in a few hours and everything’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Aidan mumbled, trying to make himself believe it. “I had no fucking idea how hard this part would be,” he admitted. “I thought so much about before the surgery, when Dean would be scared, and about afterwards, when he’d be recovering and miserable and in pain or whatever, but I didn’t think about sitting in this room for hours, knowing that a doctor cut his head open and is poking around in there with a scalpel, looking for a good way to cut the lesion out.” He realized what he was saying and winced. “God, I’m sorry, that’s not… I shouldn’t be saying it like that, not to you, or, or to anyone, but I just…”

“It’s fine,” Lance assured him, cutting off the Irishman’s nervous chatter. “I know what you mean. Brain surgery is horrifying to think about, but Dr. Curtis is wonderful, and has had a lot of success with lesionectomies in the past. Dean’s in the best hands possible, and his life is going to be so much better. It might not make the seizures disappear completely, but it is at least going to lessen them, and he needs that. You know how badly he needs that.”

Aidan nodded. He remembered the long nights, the tears of pain and anger, the way Dean stopped breathing sometimes; there was absolutely no question in his mind of how much his boyfriend needed the surgery, but it was terrifying all the same. “He, uh, he…” Though he wanted to talk about Dean, the Irishman had no idea what to say. “He’s my… everything, and he deserves a better life than all this pain. The surgery is worth it, but it’s still terrifying to wait, you know?” He sighed, starting to chew on his lip again. “Should I text Brett to update him?” he asked after a few minutes, pulling his phone from his pocket in hopes of finding something to do.

“I already did fifteen minutes ago,” Lance answered, sounding a little apologetic that he couldn’t give Aidan that distraction. “Did you sleep last night, Aidan?” he asked kindly, seeing the dark bags underneath the young man’s eyes.

Shaking his head, Aidan admitted, “Not really. I guess I’ll tell my parents that Dean’s been in surgery for a couple hours.” Texting anyone was a good distractor, and he decided to make a group text with his parents—not that either of them knew what a group text was—to explain to them what the surgery was and the fact that his boyfriend was already in the OR. “I’ll sleep tonight when I know Dean’s okay.” He sighed, looking a little lost. “After the surgery, only family can go back there, right? What am I… I don’t…” He stopped, realizing how self-centered that line of thought was.

“I’ll sneak you in,” Lance promised with a small smile. “I know that you’re the one Dean’s really going to want to see. I don’t think he’d manage to function without seeing you first. He really loves you, Aidan,” he said softly. “I’ve seen every love of Dean’s life, but he’s never loved anyone the way he loves you, not even that man he saw for three years in his early twenties. He’ll be happy to see me and his mother when he wakes up, but he’ll need to see you.”

With a bit of a blush, Aidan ducked his head. “I love him too,” he mumbled. “All I want right now is to hear that he’s okay and then see him with my own eyes. I want to hold him and feel him breathing so that I know he’s alive. So, uh, sneaking me in would be really, really great,” he finished awkwardly.

They stopped talking at that point, because Christine reappeared, holding a tray in her hands, on which there were sandwiches, vegetables, and a couple bowls of soup. “Take whatever you’d like,” she instructed the men, snagging a sandwich for herself before passing the tray for Lance and Aidan to share. “Have you heard from the OR yet?” she asked, worried she had missed something.

“No,” Aidan answered, taking a bowl of soup and swallowing a small spoonful of the hot liquid, just for something to do. “It’s probably halfway done, right? The surgery, I mean,” he said in a rush. “He’ll be out soon, yeah?”

“In a few more hours,” Christine answered gently. She knew that Aidan was struggling at that moment; they all were, but Aidan, as the youngest, was probably the least equipped to deal with the stress and fear. “Honey, we don’t want them coming out to talk to us early, because that means something’s gone wrong. Eat your lunch,” she added in a mothering tone.

Obediently, Aidan began to actually eat his soup, rather than just sip a tiny spoonful every few moments out of boredom. A few bites in, he realized that he was actually hungry, and managed to finish off the bowl quickly. “Thanks for lunch,” he mumbled to his boyfriend’s mother, standing up to throw the empty paper bowl and plastic spoon in the trash bin. Not wanting to sit down for much longer, he decided to pace back and forth across the waiting room, hoping that he wasn’t disturbing everyone else who was there.

After another hour, spent pacing and drinking tea, he popped out of the waiting room to go to the bathroom; when he came back, the O’Gormans had, of course, not heard anything about Dean yet. He spent the next hour tapping his foot, chewing his already beat-up lip, being stressed, and eating snacks when Lance got some and pressed them into his hands. His phone was in his hands, the text conversation with his parents open on it, when, six hours and forty-eight minutes after Dean had been taken out of his room to go to the OR, a doctor came out to find the two New Zealanders and the Irishman who were waiting for news.

“Excuse me?” she said, pulling a chair over to sit in front of them. “Dean is out of the OR, all stitched up. He did really well, and we got the whole lesion. He’ll probably still have some seizures, but nothing like what he was having before. I can take you back to see him now while you wait for him to wake up. Just family, though,” she said apologetically, looking over at Aidan. “I know you want to go back, and I’m sure he wants you to go back too, but those are the rules. We may be able to figure something out once he’s out of recovery and into rehabilitation, or even once he wakes up and can fill out some forms.”

“Why didn’t he get the option to fill these forms out before the surgery?” Lance asked; he knew that Dean would be heartbroken to wake up without Aidan. “He’s listed Aidan as someone who can receive all of his medical information, and as an emergency contact should anything go wrong. Isn’t that enough to qualify Aidan to go back to see him while he’s in recovery?”

Dr. Curtis shook her head. “I’m really sorry,” she told them. “I don’t know why those forms were not made available before the surgery. I know that they have to be specifically requested, but you should have been informed of their existence prior to surgery. Ask a nurse to get those forms for you so that he can fill them out as soon as he wakes up, okay?” she said, and then took the O’Gorman parents back into the surgery recovery unit, leaving Aidan in the waiting room, alone and feeling close to tears.

Two minutes later, he received a text from Lance. _We are filling out the forms that Dean can sign when he wakes up. Here he is._ Attached was a picture of Dean, who was unconscious, with white bandages wrapped around his head. Aidan sighed shakily as he looked at the photo; it was nothing like being there in person, nowhere near as comforting, but it still showed him that his boyfriend had survived the operation. The surgery had ended up being so much worse than they had thought it would be, since Dean’s neurologist had switched her plan from an implant to a lesionectomy after closer inspection of the blond man’s MRIs, which showed the lesion to be operable.

An implant surgery would have taken anywhere between one and two hours, with Dean leaving the hospital that evening, or maybe the following morning, but a lesionectomy was a longer surgery, a longer recovery time, and was overall more difficult. It was more effective, though, and that was what mattered. Aidan got up after a few minutes to get himself his umpteenth cup of tea, switching from caffeinated to herbal in hopes of calming himself down. He’d downed three cups before Christine came out into the waiting room. “He’s awake and signed the form, honey,” she told Aidan softly, leading him back into the recovery area. He gave his ID over to a security guard, who gave him a visitor’s badge with Dean’s room number on it, and they walked down the hall to room 3827.

“Dean,” Aidan whispered in relief, being very careful as he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to embrace his boyfriend. “Oh, thank God, babe, you’re okay. You’re okay,” he repeated, allowing himself to cry a little as he buried his face in the older man’s neck. “Fuck, gentle,” he muttered to himself, moving off of Dean.

“I’m… you… gentle enough,” Dean said, sounding exhausted. “I’m missed you,” he added, knowing vaguely that his grammar was shit in that sentence but far too tired to care.

Aidan laughed softly. “ _You_ missed _me_?” he asked, intertwining his fingers with Dean’s. “You were asleep. How do you miss me when you’re asleep? I, on the other hand, missed the hell out of you.” He lifted his boyfriend’s hand up to kiss it, reveling in the fact that the older man was okay. “You look really tired, Deano. Go back to sleep. I’ll stay right here.” He watched fondly as Dean let his eyes slip shut and almost immediately began to snore. “He was awake for a grand total of what, five minutes?”

Smiling, Lance explained, “He woke up for moment and asked for you, and kept himself up to sign the form and see you.” He watched as Aidan squeezed Dean’s hand tightly. “Only one person can stay here overnight, and I think we’ll leave that to you. If he wakes up scared or lonely, I think he’s going to want to see you,” he explained.

“Thank you,” Aidan whispered, still looking down at Dean’s sleeping face. “I’ll, uh, I’ll grab a change of clothes from your place tomorrow, when you’re here with him.”

“I’m going to leave in an hour to get you some clothes and toiletries, and then Christine and I will go home. I want you to have anything you need to stay close and keep Dean feeling happy and safe,” Lance said. “You need to actually sleep while you stay here, though. If you just sit here awake all night, I’ll get Dean to convince his doctors to inject you with a bunch of tranquilizers, understand?” he asked, giving Aidan a piercing look until the young man nodded.

“I think I’ll be able to sleep now that the surgery is over and successful,” Aidan said, half to himself and half to Dean’s parents, “and I’m here if he needs anything during the night. I’ll wake up if he says anything or if a doctor or nurse comes in, but other than that I can sleep. I really, really need sleep.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it—the time was approximately five in the evening. “Are you planning to stay for dinner?” he asked.

Christine shook her head. “I don’t think so. We all need to get some rest. Lance, honey, why don’t you go get Aidan’s things now, and we’ll go home for dinner.” She looked from her husband to her son’s boyfriend. “Do you want anything from outside the hospital for dinner? I can’t imagine the food here is better the second time you have it in one day.”

Aidan shook his head.

“I’ll get you something anyway,” Lance said as he stood up to leave. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he added, kissing his wife goodbye, patting Dean’s hand, and squeezing Aidan’s shoulder before he disappeared out the door, shrugging his coat on to ward off the chill of spring.

In the room, Christine pulled her knitting out of her bag; unlike Aidan and Lance, she had figured out how to funnel her stress into something productive. “Honey, if you and Dean need to live with us for a little while after he gets out of the hospital, instead of going to his apartment, that’s fine,” she told her son’s boyfriend, unsure of his plans.

“We’ll see,” Aidan responded; he knew it was vague, but the truth of the matter was that they wouldn’t know what they needed for a while. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be in New Zealand. I mean, I’m obviously going to stay here for as long as it takes Dean to feel comfortable being alone, but, uh, I don’t know how long after that I’ll be here. Things are… we’re figuring out our future now,” he finished awkwardly.

“You’ve got a lot of time to figure that out,” Christine said kindly, noticing how uncomfortable Aidan seemed. “It’s hard being from opposite sides of the world, but I have faith you two will be able to have a fulfilling relationship somehow.” He resumed her knitting, the click of the metal needles and the beep of the machines that were monitoring Dean keeping the small room from being filled with total silence.

After a few moments, Aidan finally had to give up on sitting on the bed, instead dragging a chair over so that he could sit right by his boyfriend’s hip, facing him to remain visible to the older man when he next awoke. He wove their fingers together again before leaning over and putting his head down on the bed by Dean’s arm. While he didn’t want to fall asleep before Lance came back with his dinner, he badly needed to rest after a couple days with no sleep and a lot of stress. To keep himself awake, he ran his thumb back and forth over the back of his boyfriend’s lax hand, a steady rhythm that he hoped would soothe the other man if he were to wake up.

* * *

 

Everything felt… swimmy, like his head was a lake filled with a viscous fluid that kept jiggling around in there, somehow keeping his eyes glued shut. Maybe the stuff in his head was gelatin. After he got past the swimmy feeling, though, Dean started to notice various things in the room, even with his eyes closed. There were beeps of various pitches and frequencies, mostly on his right side, and a steady _click-click-click_ that sounded like his mother’s knitting needles while she made a scarf or a sweater. There was a comforting, moving pressure on the back of his left hand that he realized was a thumb. “Aid?” he groaned softly, prying his eyes open past all the gelatin in his head.

“Hey, gorgeous,” the younger man replied, scooting his chair forward to get closer to Dean’s face. “How are you feeling?” he asked, kissing the tip of the tired Kiwi’s nose happily.

“Swimmy,” Dean announced, taking care to enunciate the word clearly so that nobody would worry about his mental state. “You’re pretty,” he added, blinking up at his boyfriend’s face serenely. “Great bone structure.”

Aidan laughed a little, squeezing Dean’s hand gently. “You’re pretty, too,” he informed the older man. “I think the doctors are going to check on you soon, but you can go back to sleep until then if you need to.” He felt tears prickling in his eyes, but didn’t let them fall. Not only was his boyfriend alive, but his life was going to be happier, less painful, and overall _better_. “I’m going to stay here with you tonight, babe, so if you need anything during the night, just say my name and I’ll do it for you, okay?” he said, and then looked up. “Your dad is out getting some things I need to spend the night, but your mum is right here.”

Christine stood up to get into her son’s line of sight before he tried to turn his head to look for her. “You look so good for being only a couple hours post-op,” she told him, smiling as he looked up at her with tired eyes. “I don’t know if you remember from when you first woke up earlier, but the doctors said the surgery went really well. They got the lesion out, and there weren’t any complications. It’ll take a while for the wound to heal and for you to recover, but I think everything’s looking up for you, sweetie,” she said, getting a little teary-eyed at the prospect of her son having an easier life.

“Awesome,” Dean said in an exhausted voice. “Yay for me.” He was happy to hear all of that, but too tired to celebrate at that point. This was great news, but he was having trouble focusing, and his mind just sort of jumped around. “Aidan?”

“Yeah?”

“I want a dog.”

The younger man laughed, pressing another kiss to Dean’s hand. “We can get a dog,” he promised. “Whatever kind of dog you want.” He was glad to see the older man smile widely when he heard that, and he watched calmly as Dean’s eyes slid closed once more. “If he remembers that when he wakes up again, I’ll have to learn how to take care of a dog,” he told Christine with a wry smile.

“You can always do the whole ‘if you adopt a dog, you have to take care of it’ speech that parents give to their kids,” she suggested cheerfully, sitting back down and resuming her knitting. “You know, with all the time I’ll be here with his recovery, I may be able to make a sweater for you once I finish this one for Dean,” she said, sounding pleased.

“Th-thank you,” Aidan stammered, taken aback by the thought that he was considered to be so serious with Dean that he was getting a sweater. “I’ve never had a hand-knitted sweater before. It sounds really nice,” he added shyly.

At that moment, the door swung open, revealing Lance, holding a small duffel bag in one hand and a paper bag of takeout in the other. “I’ve got dinner, clothes, deodorant, toothpaste, and a toothbrush for you,” he told Aidan, putting the food on rolling table by Dean’s bed and setting the duffel bag on the floor. “Are you ready to go, dear?” he asked his wife.

Christine was already putting her knitting back in her bag. “Dean woke up for a couple minutes while you were gone,” she informed her husband as she stood up. “He seems to be doing well.” She turned toward Aidan. “Call us if you need anything,” she told him. “We’ll see you tomorrow!” She gave him a kiss on his forehead before heading out the door with her husband, who gave Aidan a cheerful wave as he left.

Once the door shut behind Dean’s parents, Aidan pulled the rolling table around so that it was in front of him. He opened the food—some chicken and a salad that had been picked up at a local organic supermarket—and began to eat. It felt a little strange to just sit next to his unconscious boyfriend, eating as though the older man hadn’t just had a craniotomy so that they could slice out a problematic little chunk of brain. Or something like that. Honestly, Aidan wasn’t completely sure of what a lesion was. Instead of dwelling on that, though, he pulled a book from the backpack he had brought with him that day; he had brought it on the farfetched hope that he would be able to read in the waiting room, and now that he knew Dean was okay, he could concentrate on the novel in front of him.

He glanced up when the door opened, and he saw Dr. Curtis come into the room. “Hi,” he said quietly, giving her a wan smile. “I’m staying with him tonight,” he explained. “I’m, uh, not just a, um… a friend.”

“I guessed that earlier,” she replied with a knowing smile. “I’m going to look at his vitals and do a couple quick tests on him.” She reached out and gently shook Dean’s shoulder. “Mr. O’Gorman? I’m sorry, but I need you to wake up for a moment,” she said, smiling. “You’re doing really well, and I just need to do a few neurological tests to see how your brain is functioning. Now, we don’t expect you to do perfectly so soon, but we want a baseline for tests over the next few days,” she explained before doing a few basic tests, mostly eye tracking and simple arm movement. “Great,” she said, giving Dean a comforting smile. “I’m going to note your vitals, and then I’ll leave you alone with your boyfriend so you can get some sleep and maybe start to eat a little.”

Dean gave the doctor an exhausted thumbs up, still looking a little high from the pain medication, and watched as she looked at all the little machines and wrote things down on his chart. “Bye-bye,” he said placidly as she left the room. He then turned his head carefully to look at his boyfriend. “You know,” he began slowly, “I love you. You’re great and just, like… super great.”

Abandoning his dinner for the time being, Aidan scooted his chair closer to the bed and took Dean’s hand in his once more. “You’re great too,” he replied cheerfully. “I’m very much in love with you. It’s wonderful to see how well you’re doing, babe. You deserve a more comfortable, easier life, and you’re going to have it now. Let’s take it easy for the next few days, okay?”

“Duh,” Dean answered. “Let’s be real, I just had my head cut open and my brain poked by a doctor. I’m going to lie here for the foreseeable future. Can I eat some candy or something? I deserve candy. I have stitches in my head!”

“That you do,” Aidan agreed with a smile. “I don’t have any candy with me, love, but I can get you some toast and jam. Jam is sugary, and toast is delicious,” he explained. “I’m going to spoil you forever now, Deano.” He paused. “Wait, there’s probably a vending machine somewhere around here. Do you want me to go buy you some sweets?”

Dean nodded. “Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’ happily. “You have to ask the nurse, though, because I had surgery and I need permission to eat things.” He stopped, looking ecstatic. “Guess what I feel?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Pain? Exhaustion? Hunger?” Aidan speculated, knowing that he was wrong if Dean was that excited about whatever the answer was.

“Horny,” the older man announced. “I haven’t felt horny without psyching myself up for months, and even then it was more the hand on my cock that got me going instead of what I felt emotionally, but now I want to fuck. Right now,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows.

Aidan tried not to laugh in Dean’s face. “Babe, that’s amazing, but I have a feeling that won’t be allowed for a while. It’s hot, but let’s hold off on that. That is one symptom gone, though. Sounds like your depression is doing a lot better. I promise a lot of really, really hot sex as soon as we’re allowed,” he promised. “Anything you fucking want.”

“I’m going to want it all,” Dean said cheerfully. “Everything under the sun. Weird fetishes, positions that nobody likes outside of porn… it’s all on the table, because I haven’t wanted sex in, like, forever, and now I really want it.” He stopped and yawned. “Please get me sweets.”

Smiling, Aidan stood up, gave Dean a quick kiss, and left the room. “Can Dean have sweets?” he asked when he stopped at the nurses’ station. “He’s asking for them, and he just had surgery so I want to give him whatever he wants, so, uh, can he?”

The nurse at the computer looked up at him. “Give me a moment to look through his records and his chart,” she said, typing something into the hospital system and reading through everything on the screen. “He can,” she informed him with a wide smile. “He needs some real food too, though, so I’ll get something sent up, all right?”

Aidan nodded. “Thank you,” he said gratefully. “Can you point me in the direction of a vending machine?” he asked, and once he had directions, he headed down the hall to find it. He purchased a few options for his boyfriend and, hands full of colorful bags of candy, he went back to room 3827. “Of course,” he muttered when he saw that Dean was asleep once more. “Sweets are here when you wake up,” he explained to the unconscious man before sitting back down with his book.

When Dean next woke up, he was in pain. “Ow, fuck, fuck, bad,” he muttered, patting his hand around the bed until it landed on top of the call button, which he hit immediately. “I’m in pain,” he explained to Aidan, seeing the younger man’s worried face next to him. “I don’t like pain. They should give me drugs.”

“I’m sure they will,” Aidan said in a soothing voice. “You had your head cut open, so I think they’ll give you a lot of drugs for a while.” He reached out and stroked a gentle hand down Dean’s arm, hoping to distract him from the pain, which he assumed was mostly at the incision site on the older man’s head. “Take a couple deeps breaths while you wait for the nurses, okay?”

After three deep breaths, a nurse came into the room, knocking on the open door to warn them of her entrance. “What do you need?” she asked as she approached the bed, getting out a blood pressure cuff and pulse oxygen monitor to take Dean’s vitals as she spoke with him.

“Meds,” Dean replied tiredly, letting the nurse move his arms around. “I’m in a lot of pain,” he explained. “A lot. Mostly on and in my head, not… not anywhere else.” He relaxed back into the pillows by his head in exhaustion as the cuff around his left bicep tightened and then slowly released.

The nurse nodded. “I’ll get you something for it right away, okay? It’s probably going to be painful for a while, but, well, that’s why we have drugs in here. I’ll get you some morphine and we’ll see how much that helps, okay? It won’t make everything perfect, but it should help some,” she explained. “I’m going to check your file and see if it’s been long enough since your last dose to give you more. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right back.” She took the blood pressure cuff and pulse ox monitor off of Dean’s arm and finger, respectively, and took her little rolling nurse’s station out of the room with her as she went to check on his medications.

“Okay, you’ll have something soon, babe,” Aidan promised, weaving his fingers through Dean’s. “Do you want some water?” he asked after a moment. “I know you had ice chips and a bit of juice in the recovery unit, but you should probably have some more. I’ve heard your throat gets super dry with surgery, so some more water or juice would probably help.”

“Water would be great,” Dean mumbled gratefully, the short sentence hurting his throat. He couldn’t drink for a while before surgery, and then had only gotten ice chips in recovery, which hadn’t helped that much. “So, like, I lived through surgery. That’s pretty cool,” he continued with a faint smile, watching as Aidan picked up a small pitcher and poured him a cup of water. “Straw?” he asked hopefully.

“It’s very cool,” Aidan agreed, sticking a straw into the water and holding it up to Dean’s lips. “Be careful drinking,” he added as his boyfriend slurped down the water quickly. “Go slow or you might throw up.”

The older man made a frustrated face but released the straw from between his lips to take a break. “I feel like my mouth will never stop being dry. In fifty years, I’m going to die and my mouth will still be fucking dry.” He lay his head gently back against the pillows. “I don’t… I know I’m a few hours out of surgery and shit, but I can actually imagine living for fifty more years,” he said with a smile.

“That’s amazing,” Aidan said softly, leaning forward and kissing Dean’s cheek. “I’m so happy for you, babe.” He pet over his boyfriend’s hand soothingly, trying to distract him from the pain. He was pretty sure that he couldn’t really help with the pain; the only surgery he’d ever had was wisdom teeth removal, and he knew that brain surgery had to be infinitely worse. “Try to remember that shit for the next few days, though, ‘cause you’re going to be miserable while recovering. Just thinking about long-term benefits. And my butt,” he added with a cheeky grin. “Think about my butt.”

Dean was going to waggle his eyebrows playfully, but remembered the staples in his head at the last moment and settled for licking his lips in a somewhat lewd manner, which turned out to be weird with no moisture in his mouth. Well, he had tried. “Like I’d ever stop thinking about your butt,” he replied, and then looked up when a nurse came in. “Meds?” he croaked hopefully, beckoning Aidan with one hand so that he could sip some more water.

“Meds,” the nurse confirmed cheerfully. “Now, I know you’ve been in and out, so I just want to introduce myself. I’m Annie, and I’ll be here until eleven. After that, Ryan is going to replace me, okay?” she said, pulling out a syringe and, after thoroughly cleaning it and his IV line, put the medicine into the IV. “That should start working soon, dear. Let me know if it doesn’t, because we can probably add something else in to help.”

“Thanks, Annie,” Dean said serenely, relaxing lazily into the bed as he stopped drinking and waited for the opiates to hit his system. “You know,” he continued to his boyfriend once the nurse had left, “you said we could get a dog. We could get a seizure service dog and love it and it would help me be independent and it could sleep on a little bed near us but, like, not watch while we have sex ‘cause that would be weird, but wouldn’t that be great!” He stopped talking and took a breath; run-on sentences were hard.

Unable to stop smiling at his happy, out-of-surgery, onto-a-better-life boyfriend, Aidan nodded. “That would be great. If you can feel safe staying at home or on a set alone, it would make figuring out jobs a million times easier, since we wouldn’t have to coordinate our schedules quite as much.” He watched as Dean’s face relaxed a little from his pinched, pained expression. “The meds working?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, yawning. “I think I’ll pass out again soon. You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”

Aidan nodded, reaching up and rubbing his boyfriend’s cheek. “That armchair is a little pullout bed,” he explained, pointing to the blue chair across the room. “If you need me and I’m not right here or in the chair, I’ll probably just be in the loo for a second. If I’m asleep, just say my name kind of loud and I should wake up.”

“Awesome,” Dean mumbled, his eyes already drooping. The opiate painkillers were kicking in quickly, and he was back asleep within a few minutes, head listing to the side as he drooled a bit onto his pillow.

Next to the bed, Aidan, pulled out his phone and reached into his backpack for the charger, which he stuck into an outlet to keep the battery from dying. “I’m going to talk to myself a lot in here, aren’t I?” he muttered, digging out a paperback to read while he ate. Things were definitely looking up.


	42. Recovery Is a Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It actually worked out really well that I wrote this after surgery, because I had no idea how fucking awful recovery was before that. You feel okay for a while, and then crash. My third day was basically hell, but after a while it gets better, and now I'm just two weeks away from being completely recovered and allowed to work out again!
> 
> I wanted to post this just in case anybody wants to support me :) I've been working really hard to get a racing wheelchair, and those are expensive as fuck! I'm getting closer to my goal, and with some money donated offline from family friends, I just need another few hundred bucks to get there. If you can donate, I'd love you forever, and if you can't, feel free to learn about me and my genetic disorder from the blurb on donation site [here.](http://www.gofundme.com/fy475k)

It was a few minutes after one in the morning when Aidan woke up to the sound of his name, said in a whiny voice. “Aidan,” the voice repeated, coming from his right. “Aidan, can’t sleep.”

After waking up enough to remember that he was in the hospital and the voice calling to him was his boyfriend, the Irishman stood up, stretching his shoulders a little before coming over to sit on the side of the bed and kiss Dean’s cheek. “Hey, sweetie,” he said softly, not bothered that the older man had woken him up. “Are you okay?”

“I hurt,” Dean said, sounding extremely upset about that fact. “I don’t want hurt,” he added, clearly frustrated. His grammar seemed to be falling apart and he knew it, but he was exhausted and in pain and thus didn’t care.

“I know, baby,” Aidan whispered, the infrequent nickname slipping out as he saw his boyfriend so tired and unhappy. “Did you hit the button to call for a nurse?” he asked, petting the other man’s cheek.

That question was answered before Dean could speak, though, because a nurse came in at that moment, flicking on the lights as he did so. “Hi, I’m Ryan,” he said cheerfully, erasing the previous nurse’s name from the little whiteboard to write his on the “your nurse is: _________” line. “What do you need, Dean?” he asked, parking his traveling vitals monitor and computer station next to his patient’s bed.

“Hurt,” Dean croaked.

Ryan typed a little into his computer. “Good news,” he said with a little smile. “You’re due for more medication. I’ll go sign out some morphine and we can dose you up so you can sleep more. While you’re up, can you drink some more water? Your dry mouth will go away sooner if you hydrate more,” he explained before leaving the room.

“Okay, more medication and you’ll be fine,” Aidan soothed, refilling Dean’s cup from the water pitcher and bringing the straw to his boyfriend’s lips. “Get a few sips down for me, yeah? You can drink all you want and still not get up at all, since you have the catheter in,” he explained. “You’re not going to be getting up for a few days,” he added. “Be lazy as hell if you want.”

Dean scrunched his mouth back and forth, trying to distract himself from the pain and just to see what his face could do. “Sleep in bed,” he demanded, tugging at Aidan’s t-shirt. “Sleep in bed,” he repeated when the younger man didn’t move for him.

“I can’t, love,” the Irishman replied apologetically. “It won’t fit both of us, and the nurses probably won’t let us. If I insist, they might kick me out. How about I bring the little pullout bed close enough that I can hold your hand while we both lie down?” he suggested, hoping that was an acceptable compromise. He could tell by Dean’s face that the older man wasn’t happy about it, but that was the best he could do. “Look, I’ll bring the bed over right now,” he said, leaving his boyfriend’s side briefly to drag his pullout bed over next the hospital bed.

“In bed,” Dean insisted, looking crestfallen when Aidan shook his head. When Ryan came back into the room, carrying a syringe and alcohol wipes for cleaning, he looked beseechingly at the nurse. “Him in bed,” he said plaintively, pointing at his boyfriend.

Ryan looked down at his patient sympathetically; he knew that it would be comforting for the small-looking, tired man on the bed to have his “friend” in the bed with him, but it wasn’t allowed. “I’m really sorry, Dean, but he can’t do that. There are rules, and even if he’s careful, he might accidentally bump your head and bandages, which would be bad.” He carefully cleaned the syringe and IV line before injecting the morphine. “This will help you sleep, and you won’t notice he’s not in the bed once you’re asleep,” he explained, even though he knew that was probably no comfort at all. “He’s right here in the room with you, though, and it looks like he’ll be just a few centimeters from you the whole night.” He gave Dean a small smile. “Just hit the button if you need anything,” he said before he left the room, turning the light off as he went.

“Right here,” Aidan reminded Dean, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand gently. “I’ll be right here the whole night, okay?” he said softly, kissing the back of the hand that was clutched in his. “You can go back to sleep,” he whispered, watching for a few minutes as Dean’s eyes slipped shut. Once he was sure that the older man was asleep, Aidan relaxed back into his own little bed, and fell asleep with their fingers still loosely entwined.

* * *

“Cold.”

Aidan awoke once more to the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, but, judging by the sunlight coming through the window, it was now a reasonable hour. “Do you want another blanket?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered, taking a little more care with his words now that he was completely awake. “I want a blanket and tea. Hot tea,” he specified, and then realized that Aidan was not actually in a place to provide these things. “I’ll hit the button,” he added, moving his hand to press the red square on the remote that sat next to him on the bed. He missed it once, then twice, and then three times before giving up angrily. “Fuck this,” he muttered, glaring at the remote spitefully.

“It’s okay,” Aidan said in a soothing tone, reaching over his boyfriend to press the button. “Calm down, yeah? Don’t get frustrated at yourself for not being perfect the second you get out of brain surgery.” He stood up, put his blanket on the little dresser next to the bed, and folded his little pullout back into an armchair. “I bet you can have something to eat too, maybe some toast.”

Dean continued to glare down at his hands in his lap, clearly more than a little upset with himself. “Fuck toast.”

With no idea what to say to comfort his boyfriend, Aidan felt a little relieved that a nurse came in at that moment. “Good morning, Dean,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Amanda, and I’ll be with you this morning. What can I do for you?”

“I want a blanket and hot tea and pain meds and toast,” Dean listed off, and then looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be demanding.”

“It’s okay, dear,” Amanda replied with a smile. “Let me just take your blood pressure and pulse ox, and then I’ll get your breakfast order in and bring your meds,” she promised, already putting the plastic cuff around Dean’s bicep to get his blood pressure and clipping the little plastic monitor to his finger. “Your vitals are looking great,” she told him, pulling off the cuff and piece of plastic off. “Give me a couple minutes for that blanket and those meds, and the cafeteria staff will get your breakfast up within an hour.” She left the room, typing into her computer as she did so.

“She’s multitasking like a motherfucker,” Aidan commented, sounding impressed. “I think your parents will come over for a few hours today. They don’t want to be here all day, ‘cause they’re worried you’ll get tired out.”

“Already tired,” Dean muttered crossly.

“I know, and you’re going to be tired and sick and hurting for a few days, babe, but try to remember all of the long-term benefits,” Aidan said in a smooth, calming tone. “Think about how much better things are going to be with fewer, less severe seizures, babe. You’ll get a dog, and you’ll love the dog and it’ll love you, and then we’re going to be able to travel to see each other a lot, but first we’ll stay here, or maybe we’ll go somewhere for vacation.” He smiled, and wondered what to do with his hands. Normally, in this situation, he would brush Dean’s hair with his fingers under the pretense of keeping it out of his face, but the older man’s head had been shaved and it was covered with a bandage anyway.

Dean was still glowering ahead of him, but he looked just marginally less unhappy. “I couldn’t hit the button,” he mumbled, his expression melting from anger into frustration. “I can’t talk right when I’m tired and I can’t hit the fucking button.”

“Babe, that stuff is usually temporary,” Aidan reminded his boyfriend. “The doctors told you that going in. Anyway, remember how I lost sequential memory after the whole meningitis thing? They gave me some therapy and it got better. With some work, you’ll get better. Some coordination exercises and stuff with speech and you’ll be back to your old self.”

The older man didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t protest either. “You should eat too,” he said after a minute of silence. “I think you have to go to the cafeteria yourself to get something if you aren’t a patient.”

“I’ll wait for a while,” Aidan replied, pretty sure that Dean wouldn’t be very happy being left alone right at that moment. “Maybe the nurse can help me, or I’ll go down once your parents are here.” He sat down at the bottom of the bed, using one hand to gently rub over Dean’s leg. “You’re going to be in the hospital for a while, Deano, so let me know if there’s anything you want me to bring, okay? If you want to work on your motor skills alone, I can grab a coloring book or something, but I can also bring your computer, some DVDs, a book, or… okay, what other things are there? And if you’re on a regular diet and not something special, I’ll sneak in some good food for you.”

“A coloring book?” Dean asked, looking a little angry. “Am I a fucking child?”

Aidan shook his head. “You’re a grown man who should have something more fun than therapy to work on fine motor skills,” he answered. “I’d get you a good coloring book, anyway. They make ‘famous paintings’ ones and stuff.” He shrugged. “Look, if you don’t want one, I’ll just get you the other stuff I was talking about. I just thought it’d be a fun way to work on motor skills and maybe dick around without having to think much.” He looked up when Amanda came back into the room. “Thanks,” he said, spreading the blanket over his boyfriend’s lower body as the woman cleaned his IV for the medication. “Do I need to go down to the cafeteria to get my breakfast?” he asked her.

“You do,” Amanda replied, sounding a little apologetic. “We can only order up food for patients. Don’t worry about leaving, though, since we’ve got a full morning staff up here.”

“Um, I can decide for myself if I’ll be safe if Aidan leaves,” Dean said grouchily. “You can go, Aid. I can survive without you for a few seconds.”

Aidan restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know that,” he told his boyfriend. “I’m not that hungry, though, and since I’m not, there’s no reason to leave you here alone to get bored.” He made himself comfortable in his armchair, leaning his head against the mattress by Dean’s shoulder, watching as Amanda pressed a thin syringe into his boyfriend’s IV line and delivered much-needed pain medication. “Besides, your parents will probably come soon, and I bet they’ll bring me some breakfast. Your ma seems to think if she doesn’t feed me that I’ll starve to death or something.”

Amanda finished up with Dean’s IV and gave him a smile. “Just hit the button if you need anything,” she told him. “I’ll be around to check on you every few hours, even if you don’t need anything.”  She left the room, drawing the curtain as she left to give Dean a bit of privacy.

“You should probably drink some more water,” Aidan suggested softly, reaching over to the rolling table so that he could pick up the plastic cup of water, lifting the straw over to Dean’s mouth. “Good. Your mouth is probably too dry to eat much without drinking, so let’s keep going with that, yeah?”

Dean took a few long sips and drained the cup easily. “Can you get in… in bed with me now?” he asked, speaking slowly and haltingly as pain began to give way to drug-induced exhaustion.

After a moment of internal debate, Aidan nodded and carefully scooted his boyfriend’s body over a foot and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “If I get yelled at by Amanda, I’m telling her it was your idea,” he said softly, kissing Dean’s forehead just below the bandage. “Tell me if the pain doesn’t get better soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled, eyelids drooping as the opiates coursed through his system. “Getting better,” he added vaguely, feeling that it was important to inform the younger man of that fact.

“Good,” Aidan replied, smiling a little. “Go ahead and sleep, babe. I’ll wake you up when they bring your breakfast,” he promised, watching as his boyfriend’s face relaxed as he fell asleep. Thanks to the strength of the painkillers that Dean was receiving, it took scant minutes before he was snoring quietly against Aidan’s side. The younger man pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up his email, wasting some time communicating with his agent and parents. He had just switched over to a trivia game when he heard a knock on the door. “Good morning,” he said quietly, smiling tiredly at his boyfriend’s parents.

Christine came over close to the bed and hugged Aidan gently. “Good morning, sweetie,” she greeted him, sitting down on the chair that was still pulled out into a small bed. “Has Dean woken up yet?”

After waving a little at Lance, Aidan answered, “Yeah. He’s… back and forth, emotionally. He’s exhausted and in pain, so it’s a bit hard for him to see the big picture of how things’ll get better.” He sighed softly, rubbing his hand over Dean’s shoulder. “His coordination is off and he has trouble putting together a sentence when he’s tired, so that doesn’t help him feel any better.”

“I think he didn’t realize just how hard it would be,” Lance agreed, pulling up a plastic chair to sit near the bed. “He could recite all the risks and the recovery time, but all of us thing we’re special and won’t have the worst of it. In a few days, once he starts seeing improvements, he should start to feel a bit better.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Christine said, reaching into the cloth bag she’d brought with her. “I brought you some yogurt and a banana,” she continued, putting the breakfast foods onto the table next to Dean’s water. “We’ve already eaten, but you need to have something.”

Obediently, Aidan opened the yogurt container and began to eat it with the plastic spoon that Christine had put next to it. “They’re bringing Dean’s breakfast up soon, so he’ll be awake for a little while for you to talk to him,” he said between mouthfuls. It only took him a minute to finish the small carton, and he managed to throw in directly into the waste bin that was a couple feet from the bed. “He was happy when he woke up when I was eating last night, but he was miserable during the night and when he was awake earlier today.”

* * *

Dean woke up when his shoulder was shaken, and he growled angrily. “No,” he snapped, not caring why he was being awoken; unless there was a fire that was only centimeters from his feet, he did not give a shit and would not get up for it. “No,” he repeated when he heard a chuckle beside him.

“Babe, you’ve got to get up to eat your breakfast,” Aidan wheedled, hugging Dean close to his chest for a moment before releasing him. He sort of hoped that the contact would remind his boyfriend that he was in bed with him and that maybe, just maybe, that would make him a little happier. “There’s toast, butter, jam, a little fruit cup, and some tea,” he added when the older man still refused to open his eyes. “Dean, come on.”

With an angry frown on his face, Dean blinked his eyes open, seeing Amanda moving the table toward him, a tray of food on it. By the other side of his bed, out of the corner of his eye, he could see his parents. “Awake is in pain,” he grumbled.

“You still have to eat, sweetie,” his mother reminded him in the firm, caring tone that only a loving parent could pull off. “After you finish eating some, you can go back to sleep.”

Aidan wasn’t sure how to bring up the question of coordination, because he was pretty sure that Dean wouldn’t be able to feed himself and would be very upset to be watched while he struggled. “Want me to prepare your toast so you can rest a little more?” he asked, hoping that was tactful enough. When he got an affirmative grunt from his boyfriend, he pulled the tray in close and began to butter the golden toast, putting jam on two of the four slices and leaving the other two simply buttered. “Love, I’ve got your toast ready,” he said quietly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “There’s two pieces with butter and two with strawberry jam, so go on and eat.”

Sighing a little as he opened his eyes a second time, Dean leaned into Aidan’s warm chest and shoulder as he slowly reached forward to pick up his toast. “Thanks,” he mumbled to his boyfriend as he managed to snag a triangle of bread and jam, very carefully bringing it to his mouth. He loved his parents, but he didn’t want to show his fucked up coordination to his parents, especially because he knew that he’d end up breaking down about it again if he missed his mouth or dropped his food.

There was an air of suspense in the room as Dean began to feed himself. Aidan, at least, was terrified that the blond would mess up and get upset. Dean was exhausted and in pain and didn’t deserve to struggle anymore that day. The younger man wracked his brains for a caring, non-condescending way to step in and help, and winced internally when Dean scraped the toast against his cheek, smearing red strawberry jam over his skin. “Just try again,” Aidan whispered, hoping that keeping the moment semi-private would ward off a breakdown. He grabbed a napkin and, feeling like a grandmother, wet it with a bit of saliva and used it to wipe off his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Yeah, now I’ll fucking good,” Dean spat, dropping the bread back on the tray and hoping that he was making sense despite his trouble making sense. “Not still fuck up.”

“Dean,” his mother said firmly. “Honey, it hasn’t even been 24 hours since you had brain surgery. Calm down, honey. Don’t get so mad at yourself.”

Aidan finished getting the stick jam off of his boyfriend’s cheek and kissed the newly clean skin. “Cut yourself some slack,” he whispered, again trying to keep the moment private, even from the older man’s parents. “You’re doing great for day one of recovery. Do you want some help, or just try again?” he asked, rubbing a soothing hand over Dean’s upper arm.

Without answering verbally, Dean just nudged Aidan’s hand toward the tray, relieved when the younger man took the hint and grabbed the toast to feed him. “Mm,” he grunted, hoping that his boyfriend understood the unspoken thanks. The toast was dry and the jam too sweet, but it was food and it was making it to his mouth.

“Want to have some fruit cup now?” Aidan asked when Dean finished up the first piece of toast. “Or tea?”

“Tea.”

Aidan nodded and picked up the plastic cup of hot tea by the handle, directing the straw to Dean’s mouth and letting him drink. “When I was talking to the nurses, they were saying that the next few days are going to be really hard, babe, so just… try to remember how great things are going to be in a few months, yeah?” he suggested softly.

“People that I’ve talked to all say that the third day was the worst for them,” Lance agreed from a couple meters away. “It’s all about the long term for you, Dean.” He paused. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. We’ll be here if you need anything, but you can just sleep, or even kick us out so you can have any alone time you need.” He felt bad for his exhausted son, seeing the way that his eyes nearly fell shut between sips of his tea. “You look like you could use some more sleep, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, not bothering to take the straw out of his mouth to talk. “I sleep now,” he told his boyfriend, shoving Aidan’s arm away and curled a little closer to him.

The Irishman nodded. “Okay,” he said softly, kissing the older man’s forehead and leaning back into the pillow. “Sleep off some of the pain, babe, okay? Let us know if you need anything.” Blushing a little as he leaned in to whisper in front of his boyfriend’s parents, he told Dean, “I love you so much, and I’m so happy you’re going to start feeling better in a couple weeks.”

“Love you,” Dean managed to mumble back, trying to get comfortable despite a post-anesthesia headache, a giant incision on his head, and that pesky little “scalpels in the brain” thing that had happened the previous day.

Looking on, Christine smiled. As difficult as it was to watch her son lie on the bed in pain, probably scared by the trouble he had with coordination and speech, she was happy to see how in love he was, with a man who was there for him even during this hard time. Despite all of the hardships he had been through, Dean was truly blessed.


	43. Recovering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW--vomit
> 
> Sorry it took me a million years to update, guys!

The third day after his surgery, Dean was pretty sure he was dying horribly in his hospital bed. He said as much when Aidan came back into the room from going out to get himself some breakfast from the cafeteria, and the younger man sat down with him with a sympathetic look on his face.

“What kind of dying?” Aidan asked, not sure how to help without more details. “Have you talked to a nurse?”

Dean groaned, scooting into his boyfriend’s warm side. “Headache. Stomach is… bad.” He wasn’t sure how to explain what was making him feel so sick, but he at least managed to communicate where the problems were. His head felt like it would explode, and his stomachache was accompanied by that awful feeling in the back of his throat that often preceded vomiting.

Brow knit in worry, Aidan nodded understandingly. “Did you tell the nurse yet?” he asked again; when the nurse—he thought his name was James—had come by earlier that morning to introduce himself and check quickly on his patient, Dean had still been asleep. When his boyfriend shook his head, the Irishman reached over and hit the call button. “Just let him know, okay?”

Even on Sunday morning, the hospital was a busy place, and it was a few minutes before James came back into the room. That made Aidan uncomfortable, because his anxious brain could come up with a lot of emergency situations involving an epileptic man a few days post-op from brain surgery; he reasoned that should anything really bad happen, he could run outside the room screaming to get help. “Good to see you awake, Dean,” James said warmly; he hadn’t met the other man yet, as he had been off for the past few days. “How are you doing?”

“Bad,” Dean answered flatly, looking nauseated and uncomfortable. “Head, stomach…” He made a face as his stomach churned and before he could move or warn either of the other men in room, he vomited up a stomach-full of water and the tiny bit he had eaten for dinner the previous night, getting it all over his and Aidan’s laps.

It took a lot of split-second restraint for Aidan not to jump out of bed while screaming, because holy _shit_ was that horrifying. “Oh, babe,” he said in as soothing a tone as he could muster while panicking internally. “Okay, you’re going to be okay, just a bit sick…” He looked up at James desperately, needing some sort of help because he really, really needed to get out of that bed and change his jeans and shirt.

Feeling bad for both his patient and his patient’s boyfriend, James grabbed a blue bag specifically for these situations and gave it to Dean. “The third day is the hardest for a lot of people,” he said apologetically. “Your body’s still trying to throw off all the effects from the anesthesia, and it’s pretty awful, but I promise it will get better. I’ll let your doctor know, but this is pretty normal.” He looked over at Aidan. “How about you change your clothes right now, and then I’ll get Dean a clean gown once I’ve taken another set of vitals?” he suggested.

Aidan half-smiled, half-grimaced gratefully at James as he grabbed some clothes from his backpack and ducked into the little bathroom. He came out a couple minutes later, his messy clothes in a plastic bag, feeling cleaner and better. “Want some help getting into a clean gown?” he asked Dean, who looked tired, small, and miserable as he lay on the bed, clutching the blue bag he had been given in case he was sick again. “Okay, let’s do that, then,” he continued when his boyfriend nodded.

James put a clean gown at the foot od Dean’s bed and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be checking on you every hour or so, but if you need anything, just hit the button,” he said, and then left the two men in the room, shutting the door behind himself.

“Okay, let’s just…” Aidan trailed off, noticing that his boyfriend was just staring down at his lap. “Deano? Can you say something if you can hear me?” he asked, his heart practically stopping when the older man didn’t respond. “Dean? Babe?” he repeated, snapping his fingers in front of his boyfriend’s face and getting no reaction. He jumped up and opened the door. “Help?” he called out, somewhere between calm and panicked. “I think he’s seizing?” He hadn’t felt fear during an absent seizure since the first one he’d witnessed, but this was three days after brain surgery, so of course he was worried.

Immediately, he saw two people turn and come toward him: James and a woman he didn’t recognize. He didn’t care that he didn’t recognize her, because she was clearly a doctor and that’s what he fucking needed. The Irishman moved back into the room as they came in, and he hovered a couple feet from Dean as the doctor took out a pen light and began to test his pupillary response. “It’s a good thing you caught this,” she said, trying to keep the increasingly worried man near her from breaking down. “Most people wouldn’t notice an absent seizure.”

“He just had surgery for epilepsy, and… and he had a ton of these before. Should he have a seizure so soon after surgery?” Aidan asked, feeling a little hysterical.

After consulting Dean’s chart, the doctor leaned the actor back in his bed so that he couldn’t fall over, and then looked back at the man’s concerned boyfriend. “A lesionectomy isn’t perfect,” she explained. “As I’m sure you both know, it is very unlikely for this surgery to completely eradicate all seizures. This is just a regular seizure that he’s going to have, even with the lesionectomy. I know it’s disheartening to have one so soon, but it’s not some sort of reaction to the anesthesia or anything like that,” she finished.

Aidan nodded a little numbly; he felt so bad for Dean because he knew how upset the older man would be when he woke up. “Thanks for making sure he’s okay,” he said softly, giving James a little wave when the other man left. “Right, now we’ll just wait for you to wake up, and then we’ll get you into a clean gown and you can sleep it off,” he said, sitting up on the bed next to Dean and rubbing small circles on his shoulder with his thumb.

Standing next to the bed, the doctor simply watched and waited for her fellow New Zealander to regain consciousness. When she saw the man start blinking, she pulled her pen light out again. “Good morning, Mr. O’Gorman,” she said pleasantly, flicking her light around his eyes. “Are you back with us?”

“I…” Dean began, and then coughed around his dry throat. “I… surgery…” He was exhausted and confused, and couldn’t understand why the hell he was seizing just days after epilepsy surgery.

The doctor nodded understandingly, putting away her light when she was satisfied with the man’s pupillary response. “I know, but it’s just a single seizure. Judging by your chart, only having one in three days is an improvement.” She gave Dean a smile. “You’re looking good, so I’ll go now and let you sleep. Drink some water, though,” she added before stepping out of the room.

“Here,” Aidan said, putting the straw up to Dean’s lips so that the older man could gulp down a few large swallows of water. “Good. Let’s change that gown and you can sleep all you need,” he suggested softly, pulling the strings at the back of his boyfriend’s neck to untie the hospital gown. “Are you warm enough?” he asked as he pulled the soiled fabric away and tossed it away, quickly covering his naked boyfriend with the fresh gown and tying it on.

Dean leaned tiredly against Aidan’s shoulder, not moving his body around to get the gown under his bare ass. “I…” he started. “Thought seizures will stop.”

Feeling horrible for his boyfriend, Aidan nodded and kissed the older man’s brow. “I know,” he whispered sympathetically. “Having less is still good, but I know you just wanted them to stop. We’ll see how you do in the next couple weeks, babe. It’s going to be okay, though,” he added, petting over Dean’s back as the Kiwi began to fall asleep against him. “There we go.”

Though that was the only seizure Dean had that day, things still were not enjoyable by any stretch of the imagination. He woke up in pain, vomited, and took some more painkillers before falling back asleep in bed, brow creased in discomfort even as he slept. His parents came for a couple hours, but left when they realized that having more people around just made Dean feel worse than he already did, which, frankly, was saying something. Aidan was thus left alone with a miserable, sick boyfriend, and he sat by the bed dutifully, reading a book as the older man slept and comforting him as well as he could when he woke.

* * *

Two weeks after surgery, Dean felt vaguely human again, and managed to put a zip-up sweatshirt on over his hospital gown and wash his face before he had new visitors. “Hey,” he said, giving the two men at the foot of his bed a grin. “Oh, I fuckin’ love you, Rich,” he added, accepting the coffee that the Brit held out to him.

“It’s decaf, but the fancy stuff,” Richard replied, smiling. “There’s caramel in it. You deserve it after all this,” he explained, leaning over to carefully hug his friend.

“Rich beat me to coffee, so I don’t have any fancy drink for you,” Adam said apologetically, hugging Dean as well. “I got some coffee for Aidan, though, and he’s your better half or whatever, so that's _sort of_ like getting coffee for you,” he added cheerfully, handing a paper cup to the curly-haired Irishman.

Aidan grinned. “You guys are the best,” he told their two friends genially, taking a sip of his coffee gratefully.

Pulling a chair up to the side of the bed, Richard sat down and smiled as he watched Dean sip his coffee. “How are you feeling, Dean?” he asked, focusing on Dean even as Adam clomped around the room a little to get himself seated as well.

“Pretty good,” Dean said cheerfully, flailing a little toward his left when he heard Aidan snort. “What? I am pretty good. I was fucking _awful_ before, and spent a few days throwing up and sleeping and crying a little, but I’m great now.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better now,” Richard told his friend sincerely. “You look amazing for being two weeks post-op,” he added. “Do you have to keep the bandages for much longer?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah. All my stitches are out. I just have the cover on my head because the scar is pretty freaking bad. Aid’s here every day, and even he’s a bit scared of it,” he explained, tugging at the cotton fabric that covered his head and hid the thick scar that crossed his head. “When my hair grows back in, I think it’ll cover the scar, which is good, because I can’t imagine there are a lot of roles for people with giant surgical scars on their heads.”

“On the other hand, if there are any of those roles, you’d blow the competition out of the water,” Adam said cheerfully. “Do you know how soon you can leave the hospital?”

“One more week,” Dean answered, looking positively ecstatic at the prospect of getting out. “My parents want us to stay with them for a couple weeks, just in case, but I want to go back to my flat so that it’s just me and Aid. My parents would be overbearing, and I want to be actually alone with Aidan, not ‘alone’ with him with my mum in the next room.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? You’re going to have sex three weeks after brain surgery? That seems like a bad idea.”

“I want to be alone with him, Ads, not fuck him,” Dean said bluntly. “I just need to be able to be lazy with Aidan and… and I don’t know, just have time where my parents aren’t looking over our shoulders. If we live with them, it’s like constantly being at a school dance with chaperones.” He grinned brightly. “But my doctor did say that I can have sex after three weeks of recovery as long as it’s gentle, and, I mean, it would be different, but…”

Clearing his throat, Richard shook his head. “Dean, we don’t need to know any details,” he interrupted, smiling. “I’m flying back to London on Wednesday, but if anything comes up that I can help with from the other side of the globe, you can always call me.”

“Same,” Adam said. “Well, except that I leave on Sunday. Same about the calling, though.” He settled back as comfortably as he could in the hard chair that he sat in and talked animatedly with his friends, mostly relaying stories of everyone’s exploits in the couple weeks since filming had finished up. After an hour, though, he could see Dean’s energy flagging. “You need to sleep, mate,” he said gently, leaning in and hugging his friend carefully. “I’m happy you’re doing so well, I love you, and you’d better text and call me a lot,” he said, moving on to hug Aidan as Richard scooted close to Dean.

The older man smiled down at Dean. “It’s really good to see you looking happy,” he said softly, glad that Adam spoke a little louder to Aidan to give them a tiny bit of privacy. “You were clearly miserable for a few months, and you deserve to feel better and have less stress in your life. Let me know when you get out of the hospital, okay? And,” he added, “I don’t care how cleared you think you are, you’d better be damn careful when you have sex in a week. Think of how scarred your poor mum would be if you got hospitalized so soon after your surgery for some weird sex-related complication. You’d bring shame on your family.”

“Fuck off,” Dean told the Brit fondly. “Thanks for coming, Rich.”

The four men stumbled through goodbyes, repeatedly thinking of something else to say right when the two Englishmen were leaving, but after a few minutes, Adam practically dragged Richard out so that Dean could rest again.

“That was nice,” Aidan said placidly, getting up on the bed so that Dean could tuck his head against his chest and snuggle. “How do you feel? You look pretty exhausted.”

Dean shrugged, his shoulder digging into his boyfriend’s torso. “I mean, I’m tired, but I’m okay,” he mumbled, yawning a little as if on cue. Looking up toward Aidan, the older man sighed. “I’m sick of being here,” he explained when the brunet raised an eyebrow. “I just want to move back to my flat. We haven’t lived together outside of working. On breaks, we were with our families, and I just want to live with you without getting up before dawn all the fucking time.” He stretched his neck out and kissed Aidan’s jaw. “Remember what I suggested before? About some kind of ‘honeymoon’ after my surgery?” he clarified.

Knowing immediately what Dean was getting at, Aidan nodded, grinning excitedly. “Do you have somewhere in mind, or should I start thinking of ideas?” he asked, scratching his nails gently at the nape of his boyfriend’s neck.

“You’re in charge of ideas,” Dean said tiredly. “Just take me somewhere nice.”

“I’ll start looking online while you sleep,” Aidan promised, pulling his phone out of his pocket with the arm that was not wrapped around the Kiwi. He could hear Dean’s breathing even out over the next couple minutes, and he started to search around for vacation spots. Always cautious and worried about his boyfriend, he found himself using the map function on his phone to make sure that hotels he looked at were close to hospitals.

By the time Dean woke up two hours later, Aidan had plugged his phone in to charge and set it down on the table and was instead reading a book. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said to the older man, dropping a kiss on his temple. “I think they’re going to get your dinner order soon,” he added after checking his watch.

“Good,” Dean replied. “I’m hungry.” He nuzzled into Aidan’s neck, missing the comfort of close contact. He finally wanted to sleep with his boyfriend again, after months of depression and aversion to anything physical, and he couldn’t. “Did you look up places for a vacation?” he asked hopefully.

Aidan nodded, rubbing a hand up and down his boyfriend’s back lovingly. “I’m mostly looking at beaches, if that sounds good to you. I know you can’t swim in the ocean or anything, but if we went to a resort where we could stay in a bungalow, it’d be really private and romantic,” he explained, pulling the plug out of his phone and opening his web browser to show Dean one of the places he had looked at. “This has little bungalows, and they have porches and there are some trees around them so they’re private. We could do anything we want without people bothering us, or even noticing us.” He kissed Dean’s ear, letting him scroll down the website. “Does that sound good to you?”

“It sounds perfect,” Dean answered honestly. “We could maybe go after a week living here in Auckland?” he suggested. “I want to stay a week, just in case anything comes up, and I want to be closer to completely recovered. What’s the point of a remote bungalow if I can’t do, uh, everything?” he asked, nipping at the skin of Aidan’s jaw. He pouted when the younger man gently pushed his mouth away. “Aid,” he whined, biting again and then sighing when he was pushed back again.

“Babe, I know what you want, and you can’t,” Aidan said apologetically. “You know damn well if I let you keep biting, you’re going to get horny and we can’t do anything about that for another week,” he explained when Dean looked a bit mutinous. “You’re so beautiful and I want you, but only once you’re healed and it’s safe.”

Dean huffed, sounding skeptical.

“What’s that for?” Aidan asked, brow creasing in confusion.

The older man looked uncomfortable. “I’m not anymore.”

“Not what?”

“Beautiful,” Dean mumbled. “Or handsome or attractive or whatever. When I take off my head cover next week for us to get in bed for the first time, you’re not going to want me anymore.”

Aidan sighed sadly. “Babe,” he whispered, feeling terrible. “It’s just a scar. How the hell is a scar from something that improves your life supposed to turn me off? It’s not like I’d be staring at it anyway. When we have sex, I look at your face, or your body.” He kissed his boyfriend’s ear again. “Dean, babe, I swear, if we weren’t in the hospital, if you were cleared for sex, I wouldn’t hesitate. The only reason I’m saying no right now is because we can’t.” He carefully pushed the older man’s head a few centimeters so that he could press their lips together. “I love you, and you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Dean shook his head once Aidan had pulled away. “That’s easy to say when my head is covered and you can’t follow through right now anyway,” he muttered, curling closer into the Irishman. “You’re… you’re going to want to not care, and you’ll try, but you’ll care. You’ll have to close your eyes in bed with me or something, and…” He was cut off, though, when Aidan carefully pulled the cotton fabric off of his head and dragged him up into a kiss.

It was a little unnerving to kiss his boyfriend with his eyes wide open, as he wasn’t used to that, but Aidan didn’t mind. He needed Dean to know that he loved him, scar and all. He pulled away, a blush creeping up his face, when he heard a throat being cleared a couple feet away. “Uh, sorry,” he said awkwardly, looking up and seeing Dr. Ian, the assistant to the surgeon who had performed Dean’s surgery.

“Sorry,” Dean echoed, though he didn’t look sorry in the slightest. “What’s up?”

Suppressing a smile, Dr. Ian pulled out a pen light. “I’m just doing the daily neurological testing,” she told the two men, waiting until her patient straightened up before shining the light in his eyes. “Are you done with your head cover?” she asked conversationally.

Dean blushed a little. “Aidan just, uh, took it off for… for now,” he finished, looking over at his boyfriend and smiling shyly. “How’s my scar looking?”

“It’s looking great,” Dr. Ian informed her fellow New Zealander. “You don’t have to wear the head cover if you don’t want to.  Of course, if you want to, that’s fine,” she added, holding a finger a foot and a half from Dean’s face to do eye-tracking exercises. “Hair won’t grow on the scar itself, but if you grow your hair out around it, it should be covered. If you’re not going to tell the world at large that you had brain surgery, you’ll need to be sure to comb your hair over the scar before you do premieres or anything else public,” she explained, noticing the light fuzz of the actor’s hair beginning to grow back.

“I think I’m going to ‘come out’ about it,” Dean said, surprising both his doctor and his boyfriend. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hiding my scar, and if I have fans with epilepsy, it’d be kind of cool for them to know that I get what they’re going through, and that I’ve lived through it, you know?” he explained, feeling like he was rambling a bit. “I texted my publicist about it yesterday, and she’s really supportive of the idea.”

Aidan smiled and, ignoring Dr. Ian’s presence for a moment, leaned down and kissed Dean lovingly. “I’m so proud of you,” he said softly. “Telling the world about this takes balls, babe.” He sat back up a little straighter so that Dr. Ian could continue testing Dean’s function.

Feeling a little more confident in his decision now that he had Aidan’s support—not that he had ever doubted he would get it—Dean smiled to himself and patiently did as Dr. Ian asked him. When she left, he turned toward Aidan and pressed himself against the younger man’s side. “Is it okay if I, uh, leave the head thing off?” he asked shyly.

“Of course,” Aidan answered immediately. He took a deep breath, and then said something that he had been thinking for the past ten or so minutes: “When you talk about having epilepsy and surgery, you can talk about me, if you want.”

Dean froze in shock. “What?”

The younger man nodded, looking down at his lap. “I want to be able to be with you,” he said softly. “Look, when we’re long distance, I want to be able to be with you whenever we’re in the same area. I want to be your date to premieres and everything else, and… I don’t know. Any epileptic kids or teens who look up to you should be able to know that you have a relationship. I want to marry you eventually, and that kind of necessitates coming out.” He smiled hopefully at Dean. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about me if you don’t want to. Or you can talk about me later. It’s just… I want to be able to hold your hand on the red carpet and be able to support you publicly after you talk about epilepsy and stuff.”

Dean rolled onto Aidan, kissing him deeply and enthusiastically. “I fucking love you,” he panted when he broke apart. “I can’t wait to talk about you in interviews and kiss you in public.”

Regretfully, Aidan pushed the older man off of him. “Dean, babe, not so physical,” he said, looking as disappointed as his boyfriend as he did so. “Give it another week and we’ll celebrate everything we’re going to do.”

“One week is a long fucking time,” Dean groused, but he settled for wrapping his arms around the brunet and holding him close.


	44. Going Home

“Are you sure about this? You can stay with us, sweetie, we wouldn’t mind at all,” Christine said worriedly, hovering next to her son as he got out of bed and into the wheelchair that the hospital had provided.

Forcing himself not to roll his eyes, Dean just shook his head. “Mum, I told you already,” he said as patiently as he could, “Aidan and I are going to be fine alone. If anything really bad happens, he can call the hospital, and if we’re too tired to make dinner, we can get delivery. There’s no need for us to stay with you and Dad, and I want to be with Aidan right now.” He relaxed in the wheelchair, letting Aidan pick up the duffel bag of stuff that he’d accumulated while living in the hospital for three weeks.

“I promise, Christine, we’ll be fine,” Aidan said calmly, trying to put on an air of responsibility so that she would trust him with her son. “If we need anything, we’ll call you,” he promised. “I mean, we’ll text and call you pretty often anyway, just so you know how Dean’s doing.”

“Thank you,” Christine replied, smiling fondly at the Irishman. “I want you boys to text every night so that we know you’re okay.” She could tell that her son thought she was ridiculous for requesting that, but he promised. Who wouldn’t worry themselves sick over their son after he had brain surgery? Even if they rolled their eyes and laughed at her every night while sending her that text, she would sleep better knowing that they were okay.

Outside of the hospital, at a small exit where nobody would see them—while Dean was going to open up about his epilepsy, it was going to be on his terms—Dean and Aidan got into the Irishman’s car after hugging the older man’s parents goodbye, and they pulled out of the parking lot, with the Kiwi sighing in relief. “I haven’t left that hospital for three fucking weeks,” he groaned, leaning back into the passenger seat.

“I know, babe,” Aidan said, reaching over and patting Dean’s knee lovingly. “I’m really, really happy we’re heading home. Well, uh, to your home. I haven’t really been there, except that I dropped my suitcases and boxes there last night and changed the sheets. The boxes and stuff are still in the middle of the living room, so, you know, sorry about that.”

Dean grinned. “Eh, we can unpack it sometime this week,” he said easily. “I don’t really care. I just want to get in bed with you as soon as we get home, because we haven’t had sex in three goddamn months and I want it again, and I want it really fucking badly.”

“Jesus,” Aidan breathed. “You can’t say that when we’re still thirty minutes from your flat. There’s probably some sort of law against driving while you have a giant erection. Public decency or something.”

“You want me to suffer in silence over here?” Dean asked, knowing that he was toeing the line and enjoying it immensely. “What am _I_ supposed to do for the whole ride? It’s not my fault that my brain got fixed. The surgeons went in and flipped the horny switch back on.”

The younger man rolled his eyes, smiling widely as he got on the highway. “Is that what the lesion was? Silly me, I thought it had to do with epilepsy,” he teased, setting cruise control and shifting in his seat to get comfortable. “I’m really, really happy you’re horny again, though. Not just for me, even though that’s fucking great for me, but because it’s a big deal for your mental health that you want it, you know?” he explained, glancing over at his boyfriend and seeing him squirming a little in his seat. “Are you seriously _that_ horny?” he asked incredulously.

“Three months,” Dean reminded the Irishman loudly. “I didn’t even jack it during that time. If you could die from a semen back-up, I would’ve died a month ago. So, yeah, I am really horny, and I expect to get fucked as soon as we get into my flat. We don’t even have to get to the bed. Couch is fine. Shit, even the floor is fine. I don’t give a fuck, I just want you inside me.”

Aidan groaned softly. “That’s it,” he muttered. “You either have to stay quiet or talk about something unsexy for the rest of the car ride. I’ll duct tape your mouth shut if I have to,” he threatened.

The older man looked intrigued. “I mean, if that’s something you’re into, I’m willing to try it for you,” he said, laughing loudly when Aidan slapped his thigh softly. “Oh, is _that_ what you're into? You can smack me around a little in the bedroom as long as it’s that gentle.” He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend’s shoulder—the only part of him he could really reach—and told him, “I promise I’m going to stop now, love. I’m not trying to make your drive hard.” He giggled. “No pun intended.”

“Shut it,” Aidan said, shaking his head, a smile still on his face. It was indescribably amazing to see Dean so happy after he had been depressed for months, and he couldn’t really bring himself to be actually annoyed at the older man. “I love you so much,” he told the Kiwi softly. “You’ve been through a hellish surgery and recovery, and you still look and sound gorgeous and perfect. Even if you won’t shut up about wanting to fuck while I’m trying to drive, I still utterly fucking adore you.”

“I love you too,” Dean said, his voice happy but no longer teasing. “I can’t even tell you how happy I am that you want to come out about us. My publicist is coming over later this week, and if we can Skype yours in, we could plan that out?” He smiled, ducking his head a bit. “It means so much to me that we’re going to go to premieres together and people will know we’re together. Going out on dates and being able to kiss at the restaurant is a huge deal.”

Aidan nodded. “When are you planning to do the, uh, press thing about your epilepsy and us? I don’t want negative press to make our post-surgery honeymoon thing suck, but if we avoid the internet enough, that could be okay, right? And I want you to be able to take off your hat in public as soon as you want to, and that’s going to be an issue if you’re photographed at the beach before you talk about the surgery, that’s… I don’t know. That could be really hard on you.”

“We can explain that we want to avoid all of the press for a little bit after coming out,” Dean suggested, his horniness finally retreating to the back of his mind as he started to think practically about their immediate future. “We can take a week off and tell our publicists to fuck off, we won’t go on the internet, and any friends who text us shit about ‘look what people are saying’ will get a stern lecture. Let’s plan to go to that resort and get a bungalow next week. We’ll come out at the end of the week and just fucking leave and not deal with the bullshit for a few days.”

“That’s pretty fast,” Aidan said, glancing over at his boyfriend. “Are you sure you want to do it so soon? I’m fine either way, and it just seems a bit rushed,” he explained.

Dean nodded firmly, sure in his decision. “I’ve been hiding this for a long time,” he told the younger man. “I just need to get it out in the open and be done with it. I’m sick of going to premieres with postictal headaches and having awkward conversations with directors and producers after I’m cast because I haven’t been open about epilepsy. I want to go to things without worrying about what’s going to happen to my career if I seize there, you know? And that’s not even going into how badly I want to take you to things. I’m going to come out about epilepsy and you on Friday or Saturday, and I’m going to be happy about it.”

“As long as that’s what you want, babe,” Aidan said, nodding along with Dean’s little speech. “This is your thing, and I’m just going to follow you on it. I’ll be there for the press thing, obviously, since you’re going to talk about me, and I want to support you, but you’re running the show.”

The older man smiled. “I love you,” he said simply. “I’ll talk to you what I’m going to say about us, yeah? I’m going to be the one who’s talking, but we’re both coming out here. I don’t want to say anything you’re uncomfortable with or anything. If you want to talk a bit too, you could,” he suggested.

Aidan was silent for a few moments, weighing it over in his mind. “I could do that,” he said slowly. “It’d be good to show that I’m also happy to be coming out. I don’t want to melt into the background like I don’t want to be out, you know? And the whole thing about you being a role model for kids with epilepsy is important, and any kids or teenagers who are just diagnosed and learning to live with seizures might need a reminder that they can have relationships and be loved,” he explained.

Feeling a little emotional, Dean leaned over and kissed Aidan’s shoulder again. “That’s really fucking sweet,” he informed his boyfriend, “and it’s really important to me that you care about teenagers with epilepsy and me being a role model. When I was, like, 15 or 16, I was used to the seizures enough to think about my life in general. I knew that I was going to have epilepsy forever, and I thought I would probably be alone. I didn’t know anyone with epilepsy, so I had no idea that people like me could be happy. Kids growing up like I did need to know that things won’t be awful forever. Shit, adults need to know that,” he added with a humorless little exhale through his nose. “A couple months ago, I could’ve used the knowledge that my life was going to get better. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry at myself about wanting the surgery if I knew of people who’d had it.”

“I’m so fucking happy that there are people who won’t go through that,” Aidan said, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable as they continued down the highway. “Like, somewhere, there’s a sixteen-year-old girl who, in a couple of years, is going to tell herself that it’s okay to want epilepsy surgery, because Dean O’Gorman got it, and he’s not whiny or weak, so it’s not whiny or weak to want it, and he’s okay after it, so she can feel safe.” He took his eyes off the road for a second so that he could glance at Dean’s thigh to get his hand on it. “And then there’s some eleven-year-old kid who’s just started having seizures and he’s scared that he won’t get to date like other kids, but he’ll be, like, oh, Dean O’Gorman has epilepsy and he has a relationship.” He grinned, feeling over the moon about his boyfriend’s more optimistic life.

Dean smiled, feeling his face heat up a bit. That was what he wanted to be for young people with epilepsy, and he was glad that Aidan understood. “Not only will people know that epileptic people can date, but we can date really hot people,” he said, placing his hand on top of Aidan’s on his thigh. “Man, when I was a teenager, I thought I was never going to have sex. I had sex when I was eighteen, yeah, and during uni, but… shit, you’re dating me, you know this. I already adored you by our first date, but I still wouldn’t have sex with you for a few months.”

“Deano?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember where you’re supposed to shut the fuck up about sex for the car ride?”

The older man smiled impishly. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to be sexy,” he argued. “I was just talking about sex. It’s not my fault that you’re probably thinking about how great it was when I finally got in bed with you. It was your first time with a man, and it was amazing for you, wasn’t it?”

“Fucker,” Aidan muttered under his breath, his tone fond despite the fact that Dean was blatantly trying to rile him up. He resigned himself to the fact that for the rest of the ride, his boyfriend was going to talk about sex, and decided to join in. “Yeah, it was fucking amazing,” he agreed. “I had no idea how great anal could be, you know? And don’t even get me started on when I bottomed that time that we got it right. I knew you enjoyed it, but, like, I guess I didn’t believe it? I don’t know, but God bless your penis.”

Dean choked on his own breath at that sentence. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he gasped, laughing. “I thought you were supposed to be a good Catholic boy.”

“I’m clearly a good Catholic boy,” Aidan argued, smirking. “I just said ‘God bless’ about something.”

“About a dick,” Dean pointed out. “You said it about another man’s dick.”

“Yeah, a dick that’s a blessing from above,” Aidan said, and then began to laugh, unable to hold it back any longer. He reached to the radio and turned it on, letting rock music fill the car. Dean could sit there and think about sex all he wanted, but Aidan didn’t want to get too distracted while driving.

It took more than a little restraint for Dean not to jump on Aidan as soon as they got out of the car. Instead, he patiently waited as the younger man picked up the duffel bag, and then led the way into the apartment building, walking at a leisurely pace. He felt like he was going to explode in anticipation as he waited for the elevator, and then took it two floors up to his flat. “Come on,” he muttered, tapping his foot impatiently as Aidan dug out the house key and stuck it in the lock.

“Give me two seconds,” the Irishman said, finally getting the door open. He let Dean walk in first, and then followed him in and closed the door behind himself. Before he could open his mouth to ask the older man if he needed any pain meds before they went to the bedroom, he found himself pressed into the door with Dean’s hands up his shirt and tongue down his throat.

Dean hadn’t been kidding when he had said he wanted to have sex immediately upon arriving back at home, and he didn’t hesitate to let Aidan know. “I want you,” he gasped when he pulled away for a breath. “I want you so fucking bad, Aid.”

“Yeah,” Aidan panted in reply. “Yeah, okay.” He wrapped his hands around the smaller man’s waist and began to walk him backwards, his breath shuddering a bit as Dean’s clever hands kept rubbing and pinching under his t-shirt. “Oh, God,” he moaned, managing to get them to the living room area. This was good enough, and he tipped Dean back on the couch before kneeling over him. “We need lube.”

“It’s, uh… it’s…” For the life of him, Dean couldn’t remember where the hell the lube was in his apartment. “It’s a little, ah, hard to think when you do that,” he added, fingernails digging into the soft skin of Aidan’s back when the younger man ground his ass down onto his already hard cock.

Aidan groaned, sounding a little frustrated. “Really? You don’t know? What were you thinking about in the car?”

“You inside me,” Dean answered bluntly. “Oh, God, it’s got to be in the bedroom or something, but… don’t you have some in one of your suitcases or something? Those have all our shit from our house in Wellington.” His surgery had literally been right after they finished filming, and Aidan’s suitcases held everything from their home on set.

“Yeah, I bet there’s some there, but….” Aidan grinned widely as he made a decision, sliding down Dean’s body so that he could prop his chin on the New Zealander’s hip. “You’ve gone so long without, I can’t make you wait while I prep you,” he purred, easily slipping the button from the hole in the older man’s jeans and pulling down the zipper. “I’m going to get you off so many fucking times today, babe,” he told his boyfriend as he pulled jeans and briefs down just far enough to get his erection free; he would get Deans’ pants off after giving him a blowjob for prep and body-worshipping kisses, but for now, he just wanted to get the Kiwi off, because he really fucking deserved an orgasm.

Panting a little in anticipation, Dean reached a hand down and tangled it in Aidan’s dark curls. “Oh, God, thank you, babe,” he groaned, very happy that he would be getting off so quickly. If he didn’t have an orgasm before they started, he knew he would blow way too early when his boyfriend was inside of him. “Fuck!” he gasped when Aidan picked his cock up in one hand and licked the tip. “Oh, fuck, I’m going to shoot like a teenager,” he warned his boyfriend, arching up a little in hopes of getting the younger man to suck in him deeper.

Aidan pulled away, just for a moment, his hand squeezing and stroking his boyfriend’s heavy erection. “Well, yeah,” he said simply, grinning a little. “You haven’t come in months. That’s why I’m doing this before we fuck. Don’t hold back,” he added before ducking down to start sucking, first gently, just at the tip, and then a little harder, sliding his mouth down the shaft as far as he could go.

Despite almost a year and a half with Dean, about a year of which they’d been having sex, Aidan still hadn’t quite become an expert at blowjobs. He couldn’t deep throat for the life of him, and if he tried, he’d probably choke himself half to death. He made up for it, though, with enthusiasm, a hand stroking what his mouth couldn’t reach, and being completely and utterly in love with the older man. He made sure that his weight was supported by his crouching position, rather than left arm, and picked that arm up off the couch to reach between Dean’s legs and play with his balls. Fuck, they were already so tight and drawn up, the poor guy was probably on a hair trigger with how long it had been, like a teenager getting off for the first time. He squeezed the other man’s erection and sucked harder, taking him as deep as he could safely go.

“Aid, babe, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Dean knew he was babbling, and he didn’t care. Instead of stopping himself, he tightened his fingers in Aidan’s hair, his free hand going over his head to grip the arm of the couch. “You look so good sucking my cock and I… oh, God,” he groaned, unable to keep forming full sentences. He was sure that he would never get over the experience of a blowjob from the Irishman. His lips were plump and full from sucking cock, and he made eye contact every few seconds, looking desperately for approval and love from Dean, and fuck if that wasn’t hot. Couple that with the strong sucking and hand moving at his base and the New Zealander knew that this would always be absolutely amazing. “You feel so good,” he cried, tugging at dark curls and arching his back as he got so close that he felt himself teetering on the edge, barely able to breathe. “Aid, I’m… I’m… Aidan!” he yelled, unable to stop himself from thrusting up a little as he came, screaming his first release in so many long, agonizing months.

So happy to see his boyfriend in ecstasy, Aidan just held Dean’s hips down and swallowed the semen that flooded his mouth. He pulled off a little, licking gently and rubbing his hands over the older man’s hips. “Was that good, babe?” he asked, grinning as he kissed what little of his boyfriend’s thighs he could reach with his jeans still mostly on. He didn’t mind that Dean didn’t reply, instead lying limp with his eye closed, chest heaving. “You look amazing when you come,” he said almost reverently, kissing the older man’s stomach. “Do you still want to fuck, or no?” he asked after a couple of moments spent lazily moving his lips over his boyfriend’s warm skin.

Dean just made a humming noise at first, but he opened his eyes after a few seconds. “That was fucking _great_ ,” he said, voice hoarse and sounding a little broken, but in a great way. “Like, holy shit,” he added, dragging Aidan up by his hair so that he could kiss him. “I don’t think I can really fuck just yet,” he admitted when they broke apart. “Sorry, I’m really tired,” he explained. “Let me get you off, babe, and then we can maybe nap?” he suggested, tugging his shirt off and letting his cotton head covering fall off with it, exposing the thick scar to Aidan and the otherwise empty apartment. “Let’s get naked and I’ll do… I don’t know, whatever the hell you want,” he said, pushing Aidan off of him so that he could finish getting his pants off.

“Whatever I want?” Aidan repeated, standing up and stripping his clothes off easily, his erection heavy between his thighs. “That gives me a lot of power. You might regret it,” he teased, giving himself a stroke as he looked at the older man, lying naked and sated on the couch. “You look so fucking good,” he groaned, tugging once more on his cock before forcing himself to take his hand away. He wanted to do this with Dean, not by himself. “Babe, how are you feeling? I don’t know what you can do right now. I can do all the work on top of you,” he offered, wiggling a little bit in a half sexy, half silly way.

The older man looked up, watching contentedly as Aidan shimmied a little on top of him. “I’m just tired. I could probably do something for you before I pass out,” he said with a bit of a shrug. “Fucking drugs making me too tired to have sex when I want it,” he grumbled, licking his hand and reaching forward to give Aidan a firm stroke, grinning when the brunet groaned and reached out to grasp the back of the couch for support.

Aidan didn’t want to push Dean into doing anything that would overexert him, but he wasn’t going to stop the other man from touching him if he wanted to. “Babe,” he whispered, rocking his hips gently into Dean’s strokes. “I’m so… you want to do this and you’re happy and it’s so fucking amazing,” he said in a rush, running his hands over his boyfriend’s chest and shoulders. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he added reverently, looking at the older man’s face, taking in his features and expression and new scar and loving every single centimeter of it.

Feeling a little self-conscious with Aidan’s eyes near his scar, Dean began to stroke his boyfriend’s thick cock harder, using precome to smooth the way and make it better for him. “Tell me what feels good,” he instructed, feeling a little lost after going for months without touching Aidan; he worried he had forgotten what the younger man liked, that he wouldn’t please him. His worries began to fade, though, when he saw a familiar expression pinch the Irishman’s face: he was getting a lot of pleasure from the older man’s touch. “You… you like this, right?” he asked, still just a little hesitant about it.

“Yeah, I fucking like it,” Aidan replied in a bit of a strained voice, moving his hips with a little more purpose as he got more turned on and wanted more pressure and movement on his cock. “You’re beautiful and I love you and you’re getting me off. How the fuck could I _not_ like it?” he asked, beginning to pant a little as he started to get out of breath.

Smiling a little shyly—he had only had a tiny niggling doubt about whether or not he would be good in bed again, but it had been enough to stress him out—Dean ducked his head, watching his hand slide up and down Aidan’s leaking erection. Once he felt a little more confident and sure of himself, he looked up at his boyfriend, feeling a bit of pride in his abilities when he saw the younger man’s eyes were closed and his lip was between his teeth. “You still like how my hand feels on you?”

Despite being turned on beyond belief and having a hand around his cock, Aidan managed to snort. “You have to ask that?” He paused, though, realizing that after months of depression and major surgery, it was quite possible that his boyfriend _did_ have to ask. “Fuck yeah, I still like it,” he said, thrusting his hips into Dean’s grip with more force and more purpose. “Still love it,” he corrected himself, leaning down to mouth at his boyfriend’s shoulder, running a hand up his arm. “Dean,” he breathed against the warm skin beneath his lips, rolling his hips to keep fucking into the Kiwi’s perfect, tight grip.

“Yeah,” Dean replied softly, burying his face in Aidan’s soft, dark hair and smelling him. They were in the same bed—well, couch—and he was interested in sex again and Aidan wasn’t turned off by his scar and he hadn’t forgotten how to give handjobs in the past few months… everything felt perfect at that moment, despite exhaustion that was threatening to make him fall asleep before he got his boyfriend off. “You’re so hot on top of me like this,” he purred, knowing that talking would probably speed things up for the younger man. “Can’t wait ‘til I sleep off these meds and you fuck me. God, I want it so many ways that I don’t think I’ll be able to choose what I want first. I want you to fuck me all over this flat, so that when you have to go to film something, every room reminds me of you.”

Above Dean, Aidan grunted and thrust harder, adoring every word that spilled from his boyfriend’s lips.

“We’ll do it in the bed tonight,” Dean continued, still pretty much speaking to Aidan’s hair. “So after we nap, I’m thinking we could fuck somewhere else, like the kitchen or the bathroom. Definitely on a counter,” he said decisively. “Put me on a counter so you can fuck me hard and… shit, yeah, we’re fucking in the bathroom, so we can look in the mirror and see how fucking hot we are, and…”

With a cry at the thought of getting to watch himself fucking his boyfriend, Aidan thrust hard, the head of his dick rubbing into Dean’s stomach, and came, biting down on the older man’s shoulder as he did so. “Fuck,” he sighed as he came down from the high, sinking onto Dean’s warm body. “Please tell me you meant all of that,” he breathed, grinning and kissing the teeth marks that he had left in his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Fuck yeah, I meant it,” Dean said, giggling a little as he wiped the sticky fluid on his hand off on the younger man’s stomach, ignoring his small noises of protest. “Come on, don’t you want to fuck me by a mirror?”

Aidan nodded into Dean’s shoulder and, face burning in embarrassment and no small amount of shame, mumbled something.

“What?” the older man asked, unsure of what the hell his boyfriend had said.

Though he was still completely mortified and his face felt like it would never return to its normal color, Aidan picked his head up off of Dean’s shoulder, just an inch, and then repeated himself. “We could film it sometime.”

Dean’s face broke into a wide grin. “You’re such a fucking pervert,” he said fondly, pressing a kiss into dark curls. “I love you. We should definitely do that. Fuck knows I’ll need something for when we’re apart. Wait.” He stopped suddenly, gently dragging his boyfriend’s head so that he could see his face. “Does this mean you’ll let me take some nude photos of you? I asked and you said no, but if you’re willing to film us fucking, you’d be up for some tasteful nude photos, right?” He grinned. “Or not tasteful ones. Tacky ones that you’d never, ever show to someone else, because they’d be of you jerking off, maybe with a toy or maybe just your hands…”

“Fuck,” Aidan groaned, already feeling turned on again. “You’re way too hot,” he muttered, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek. “Come on, go to bed and sleep, and I’ll start unpacking everything,” he suggested, standing up next to the couch and offering Dean a hand.

The older man shook his head, taking Aidan’s hand and getting up as well. “Get in bed with me,” he said, dragging the Irishman toward the bedroom. “I haven’t been able to sleep with you for weeks. We can unpack later.”

Aidan nodded and, once they reached the bedroom, obediently crawled in bed with his boyfriend, ignoring the semen that was drying on his stomach. He wrapped his arms around Dean, so fucking happy to be living together again, not in the hospital. “I’m holding you to that agreement to film us,” he said teasingly as he watched the older man’s eyes slip closed.

“Good,” Dean muttered back, smiling as he started to fall asleep.


	45. Out of the Hospital

When Dean woke up, there was still light streaming through his bedroom window. “What time’s it?” he mumbled, blinking a couple times and realizing that the warm flesh that his face was pressed into was the junction of Aidan’s shoulder and neck.

“Quarter past four,” Aidan replied, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “Are you hungry?” he asked after a moment, already thinking about dinner. They’d each had some lunch before leaving the hospital, but that had been scant, and hours ago. “We can order in and go to the supermarket tomorrow.”

Still struggling to wake up completely, Dean nodded. “Food. Yeah. Good,” he managed after a couple moments of silence. “That’d be good,” he said, finally figuring out how to put together a full sentence. “Real food is going to be amazing,” he added, smiling at the thought of it. Hospital food got old very, very quickly, and he was ready to have something that had flavor and texture beyond something that could best be described as similar to pureed cardboard. “Can we get way more food than we need so I can eat a bunch of things? Just a bunch of Chinese food or something?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Aidan responded immediately, leaning down and kissing the older man’s temple, ignoring the awkward angle. “You just had brain surgery, Deano. You can have whatever you want for at least a few weeks,” he promised. For about two seconds, he contemplated getting up to look for delivery menus in the kitchen, but he had no desire to leave Dean’s side or the warmth of the older man’s bed. Did it count as their bed at this point? He turned that question over in his mind as he squirmed around and managed to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Is there anywhere specific you want to order from?”

Dean craned his neck to look up at Aidan, seeing his phone in his hand and realizing that he was going to search online for a menu. “Yeah, there’s a place called Great Wall that’s a few blocks away. They’re good and the food gets here fast.” He turned over a little so that his chest was pressed against his boyfriend’s side, curling around him. “You have nice nipples,” he commented placidly, seeing one right in front of his face.

The younger man let out a surprised laugh. “Thanks, I guess,” he replied, stroking his hand through Dean’s hair again. “I’ve had them for as long as I can remember.” He grinned even more widely when his boyfriend giggled. “You can play with them, if you want,” he added, not caring that he was nowhere near subtle about his intentions.

“I thought we were going to eat,” Dean complained, though he reached up and pinched one of the Irishman’s nipples teasingly. “And if I play with them now, we aren’t going to end up fucking on the bathroom counter, and I really _want_ that.” He stopped after one pinch and spread his hand comfortably on his boyfriend’s hairy chest. “Let’s get food now and fuck later, okay?”

Aidan nodded, turning his attention back to the screen of his phone to look through the menu. After a moment, though, he handed his phone to the older man. “I don’t care what we get, so you choose,” he instructed, leaning back into the pillows of the bed comfortably.

Glad that he got to choose, since he had been so long without good food, Dean immediately picked four entrees and two appetizers. “Okay, I know I’m about to order a ton of food, but don’t judge me. I’m starving, and we’ll save all the leftovers to heat up later,” he told Aidan before pulling out his own phone; the restaurant had his number on file and would be able to look up his address if he called from his cell. That might have been a bit embarrassing, but he was too hungry to care. He could see a smile twitching at the edge of Aidan’s lips from out of the corner of his eye as he rattled off his order. “What?” he mouthed. “I’m hungry.”

Aidan just smiled happily and played with his boyfriend’s hair. When the older man hung up, he dragged him up to press a kiss to his cheek and cuddle up close. “I’m so happy to be home with you.”

“I can tell,” Dean answered with a bit of a smirk, moving his thigh a little and feeling the Irishman’s hard-on against it. “After dinner, okay?”

“Yeah,” Aidan answered, not minding waiting. “You need to have something before we go again. You’ve only had, like, a sandwich and a bit of fruit all day, and you’ve only eaten gross hospital crap for weeks.” He kissed the Kiwi’s cheek again, feeling so grateful that Dean was out of the hospital and feeling good.

The older man sighed as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. “I guess I have to get dressed if I’m going to open the door for delivery,” he said, sounding unhappy about that fact. He opened the drawers of his dresser and looked through his clothing. “Our clothes are still packed from Wellington, aren’t they?”

Aidan nodded, looking a little guilty. “Yeah,” he answered. “We can just get dressed in the living room and unpack tomorrow.” He yawned a little, and then sat up next to Dean, rubbing a hand up and down the older man’s warm skin. “Let’s go get dressed, babe,” he suggested softly, prodding his boyfriend out of the bed. “I bought some staples for the flat yesterday,” he added as he stood up and walked with Dean into the living room. “Do you want a beer?”

“Can’t,” Dean answered regretfully, bending down stiffly to open one of their suitcases and pull out pajama pants and an All Blacks t-shirt; real clothes seemed like too much effort at that point. “I’m back to taking narcotics now that I don’t have doctors and nurses doing my pain management. You can’t have alcohol with drugs like that.” He shrugged on his clothes before hunting for his wallet, finding it in his duffel bag that had been dropped by the door in his and Aidan’s haste to get to the couch earlier. After shuffling through it, he was happy to find that he had enough cash to pay for his dinner. Holding the wallet in his left hand, he went back to the couch and lay down, watching with an appreciative eye as Aidan slid into a pair of boxers and, after a glance at Dean’s shirt and a little smirk, an Irish Rugby shirt.

Once he was dressed, Aidan got comfortable on the couch, wrapped around his boyfriend. “A lazy dinner in our pajamas seems perfect,” he said easily. “You need some lazy time this week if we’re going to have a press conference and go on vacation. That’s going to take a ton of spoons.”

Dean nodded, the back of his head bumping Aidan’s chest as he did so. “Vacation can be lazy too,” he pointed out. “But I’m going to use so much energy worrying about how things are going to go with that fucking press conference,” he admitted. “You’ll help me with that speech, right?”

“Of course,” Aidan answered immediately, kissing the older man’s shoulder. “I’ll help you right it and listen to you practice as much as you need to.” He moved his lips to kiss Dean’s neck instead. “I just want you to be confident when you tell people about everything. It’s going to be hard, so you might as well get as comfortable as possible with it.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed softly, already getting stressed just thinking about it. This was something he had hidden from the general public for his entire career, with a fair amount of difficulty, and he was finally coming clean about it. “It’s going to be hell, but I think I’ll be happier after. Hopefully,” he added with a grimace.

Aidan had a feeling that the first couple weeks after the press conference, there would be a lot of horrible shit said about Dean, especially on the internet, but that would die down after a while. He would be around for the worst of it, but he would eventually go back to the other side of the planet. “You might want to be careful looking through your Twitter and stuff for a while after,” he suggested cautiously. “You’re going to get some great stuff from people who identify with you or are impressed by your honesty, but I bet you’re going to have people calling you names and saying that you shouldn’t be acting or whatever.”

The older man nodded. “I know you don’t have a Twitter, but there’s going to be crap about you too,” he pointed out. “We’ll avoid everything while we’re on vacation, and deal with anything when we come back. I’m probably going to ignore most of the bad shit people say.” He snorted. “I say that now, but in two weeks you’re going to be holding me back from angrily tweeting at a douchebag.”

“I was thinking of starting a Twitter, but I think I’m going to wait ‘til everything from this dies down,” Aidan said slowly.

“You’re still going to get shit, no matter when you start one,” Dean informed him gently. “People are going to see us together and assholes are going to comment on that whenever they see it.” He sighed. “Some people will be really supportive, though.”

Aidan nodded. “I’m going to get a beer. Do you want juice or something?” he asked, climbing over Dean awkwardly to get off the couch. When Dean answered him, he went into the kitchen, which he had explored and stocked a little a couple days before, and grabbed himself a can of beer and poured Dean a glass of orange juice. He took the drinks to the living room and put them on the small table, kissing Dean’s forehead about an inch from the scar before heading back into the kitchen and grabbing plates and forks.

“Thanks, babe,” Dean said, pressing a kiss against his boyfriend’s stubbly cheek. “You’re being so nice to me, I’ll think about sharing all the food I ordered,” he teased, laughing when Aidan elbowed him. “I think I need a painkiller,” he told the younger man after a moment, his face pinching a little.

“I’ll get it,” Aidan said immediately, getting up and digging through Dean’s duffel bag until he found the orange prescription bottle. “I know this fucks up your appetite, so eat for what tastes good, not for how hungry you are,” he suggested, dropping the bottle in his boyfriend’s lap. “And if you need to go to bed after dinner instead of having sex, that’s fine. We’ve got all the time in the world, babe.”

Dean grinned apologetically. “I’m sorry, Aid, but I probably will,” he admitted. “This shit is going to put me to sleep.” He swallowed a pill and put the bottle on table. Before he could get comfortably lazy on the couch again, the doorbell rang, and he hauled himself up and shuffled to the door, slipping a hat on his head before opening it. “Thanks,” he said, stuffing some cash into the delivery kid’s hand before closing the door, feeling a bit rude but also wanting to eat before he got too tired from his medicine. “We have food!” he exclaimed cheerfully, taking the six containers of food out of the bag. He opened each one and starting spooning various things onto his plate, getting a little bit of everything to start with. “I can’t stop thinking about my press conference now,” he said in the middle of his third mouthful.

Aidan looked up from serving himself sesame chicken and scallion pancakes. “Yeah?” he asked, getting a last pancake without looking before sitting down next to his boyfriend. “You can start writing it whenever you want,” he pointed out. “You can try things out on me, if that will help,” he added, taking a sip of beer before starting to eat.

Though he felt ridiculous doing his speech to his boyfriend, Dean knew it would help. Still speaking through mouthfuls of Chinese food, he began haltingly. “Hi, I decided to hold this press conference because I’ve hidden something for a long time. You already know I’m gay, but this is something different. Since I was thirteen, I’ve had severe epilepsy. While filming the _Hobbit_ , my seizures got so frequent and bad that I decided to have brain surgery to help. While I still have seizures, I have fewer. I haven’t talked about this before because I was uncomfortable with it, but I realized that epilepsy is nothing to hide. I have struggled a lot with it for twenty years, but I am still happy with how my life has gone. You can be happy with a disease like epilepsy, and you can be successful. For anyone out there who has epilepsy, I want you to know that you can get through it, no matter how terrible it feels at the moment. I’ve never driven a car, haven’t been in a swimming pool without close supervision since I was a kid, but I’m happy. You can also fall in love and be loved in return. For about sixteen months, I’ve been dating my _Hobbit_ costar, Aidan Turner, who has stood by me through depression and surgery, and doesn’t think I am weak or lesser for my seizures. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for who you are.”

Aidan nodded slowly, waiting a few seconds to make sure that Dean was done before he spoke. “I think that was pretty good,” he said after swallowing his last bite. “Once you work on it a bit, you’ll be more organized, because you need to make sure it flows so that you’re not jumping around. I just want people who watch this press conference to see someone who is put together and basically perfect, because that’s what I think you are.”

With a sigh, Dean took another bite. “I hate how when you’re disabled or sick, you represent the entire disabled and sick community. If I am awkward and bad at talking, people might see my neurological difference as causing that and then they’re going to say that everyone who has epilepsy can’t do public speaking right. Shit,” he added suddenly. “What if I stress myself into a seizure during this damn press conference? That’d be fucking fitting.”

“If it happens, it happens,” Aidan said honestly. “It’d suck, but it’s less likely to happen after the surgery. If you’re still on the meds, you’ll feel pretty chill about the whole thing.”

Dean grinned a little. “That’s true,” he replied. “These pills are pretty fun. Texture starts to look great after a little while with them. Like, your stubble looks like it’s moving. It’s great.”

Trying not to laugh, Aidan just patted Dean’s thigh. “I love you, even if you’re high as a kite right now,” he said, giving up and laughing as he pressed a kiss to the older man’s temple. “Finish everything on your plate before you pass out from the drugs, okay?” he added, seeing that his boyfriend had only eaten half the food on his plate. The opiates messed with the Kiwi’s appetite, and if he wasn’t prompted to eat or didn’t choose to eat due to liking the taste, he would wander off with not nearly enough calories for the day.

“But we have to unpack,” Dean argued, though he began to eat again as he was told. “I can’t fall asleep before we unpack. I’ll never find clothes!”

“I’ll unpack,” Aidan insisted. “It’s early enough that I’m not tired, so once you get in bed, I’ll unpack.” He watched as Dean continued to eat; the older man had lost weight in the hospital from eating less and not being able to exercise or even walk around more than just physical therapy. “I’ll go to the supermarket tomorrow so we have more food.” He reached to the table to get a little more food, but set his plate down and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Your mam wanted us to text her every night, remember?” he said, typing out a quick message on his phone.

_We got Chinese food. Dean’s eating a lot and he’s going to bed soon. He’s doing fine._

Dean leaned over to see what his boyfriend was texting. “I’m doing great,” he corrected. “Between sex and sleep and drugs, I’m really great.” He thought about getting up from Aidan’s shoulder, but he was far too comfortable. “Maybe I’ll just go to sleep right here,” he said happily.

“Those drugs are really hitting you, aren’t they?” Aidan said with a laugh. “You’ve eaten a good amount. You can go to bed if you want.”

“Awesome,” Dean replied, standing up slowly. “I’m going to brush my teeth,” he announced before shuffling away toward the bathroom in his flat, leaving a smiling Aidan to clean up their meal before starting to unpack their suitcases and boxes from their previous home on set.


	46. Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT i havent upd8d n 4ever. if u read my other story, u no i lost more function. i now only have 1 completely functional hand, w/ only a thumb working on the other. i spent a while n spinal cord rehab, but typing is still hard. so upd8ing will still b slo (sorry!) & author notes will b n txt spk. very sorry!!! but glad 2 b back 2 writing some.
> 
> this chap has some feels n the middle but ends happy so like yay?

Dean woke up in pain, but it was a foreign pain, unlike the postictal headaches and nausea that he had become accustomed to over the past twenty years. It took him a couple moments to get oriented and remember that it was surgical pain, and he reached over to the bedside table without opening his eyes to find his painkillers and the bottle of water that was somewhere near the pills. Instead of managing to get both bottles from the table, he hit a few things and they crashed down onto the floor.

“You okay?” came Aidan’s sleepy but concerned voice from Dean’s left side. “What happened?” He pushed himself up into a sitting position, groaning a little but trying to wake himself up.

Tiredly, Dean shook his head, though he was unsure if Aidan could see him in the dark. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Go back to sleep.” He forced himself to open his eyes, using the light from the alarm clock to look for his water bottle and pills. Both had ended up on the floor, and he rolled over uncomfortably to reach for them.

Aidan gently grabbed Dean’s shoulder to keep him from rolling off the bed. “I’ll get what you need, babe,” he said softly, getting up off the bed and walking to the other side to crouch down by the mess on the floor.

“Pain meds and water,” Dean mumbled when his boyfriend looked up at him questioningly. “My head… I really hurt,” he said, sounding close to tears from the pain.

“Okay, it’s going to be better in a sec,” Aidan promised, getting a couple pills out and handing them to the older man before opening the water and handing him the bottle. “Is there anything else you want to help with pain?” he asked, petting over Dean’s side lovingly. “I can get you a hot pack for your back or something, or some tea?”

The older man shook his head. “Just get back in bed with me,” he begged, pulling on Aidan’s arm. When the Irishman got up and came back into the bed, Dean dragged him close to be the big spoon. “Why does it still fucking hurt?” he asked miserably, clutching his boyfriend’s arm where it wrapped around his stomach.

“It’s going to get better, love,” Aidan promised, kissing the older man’s shoulder. “Your head was cracked open and put back together, so it’s going to take a while, but it’s going to get better.” He rubbed his hand over Dean’s torso gently, wincing internally at the feeling of the New Zealander’s ribs; he clearly needed to gain back the weight he’d lost in the hospital. “You can sleep on and off all day tomorrow if you need to still be on the painkillers, and just call your publicist whenever you’re awake.”

Still feeling absolutely shitty, Dean nodded, trying to believe Aidan that it would get better. “Are you going to make me breakfast in bed? I got used to that in the hospital,” he teased, trying to distract himself from the pain.

“Mm, if you like burnt eggs and toast, I can arrange that,” Aidan answered, smiling against the back of the older man’s neck. “I can reheat Chinese food for you, though,” he added.

“I wouldn’t mind having a hot, half-naked man bringing me Chinese food in the morning, maybe feeding it to me and then giving me a blowjob,” Dean informed his boyfriend, smirking a little through the pain.

Aidan snorted. “You’re so demanding. I fucking love you,” he said, kissing his boyfriend’s neck again. “We’ll see how you feel in a few hours. Maybe that’d help you get relaxed and comfortable so you can call your publicist,” he commented thoughtfully, “and then I can reward you for talking to her and planning your press conference by being the big old pervert you know and love.”

“That sounds like a good day,” Dean replied, tilting his head back onto Aidan’s shoulder so that he could see the younger man. “If my head stops hurting,” he added grouchily. “Can you magically make me feel better or something?”

The Irishman rubbed his hand over Dean’s chest to keep the Kiwi warm. “I wish I could, babe,” he said honestly. “Do you want me to put on some music or a movie to distract you until you fall back asleep?” he offered, and when Dean nodded against him, he climbed out of bed once again and set up his laptop on the bedside table by his boyfriend’s head, opening Netflix and clicking around a little. “Do you mind falling asleep to _Buffy_?” he asked.

“That’s fine with me,” Dean answered, repositioning himself so that he could comfortably watch the screen while still getting spooned and loved on by his boyfriend. “It won’t bother you too much to have this on, right?”

“I’m fine,” Aidan promised on a yawn. “Just relax and let the meds work, okay?”

*

The next time Dean woke up, he was in some pain but not nearly as much as before. In fact, the pain had not woken him up; no, that honor went to the naked man who stood next to his bed, holding a plate of steaming beef and vegetables and a cup of tea.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Aidan drawled, grinning widely.

“You beautiful fucking man,” Dean said, sitting up. “You listened to my three a.m. idea about a hot man without much clothing who brings me breakfast. Thank you,” he added, taking the plate from his boyfriend before grabbing the tea and putting the mug on the bedside table.

Aidan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I also listened to the part about a blowjob,” he said cheerfully. “But that comes after breakfast so you don’t choke on your food.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the older man’s lips. “How are you feeling?” he asked, walking around to the other side of the bed and getting in next to Dean.

“Not bad,” Dean answered through a mouthful of Chinese food. “I think my head is going to hurt for a while—internally and externally. My skull is still knitting itself back together and I had scalpels in my brain a little while ago, so I guess that’s to be expected.” He speared a piece of broccoli with his fork. “Open up, babe,” he purred, feeding Aidan the bite, his free hand coming across the Irishman’s chest and rubbing gently.

While he appreciated the contact from his loving boyfriend, Aidan had trouble reconciling the clearly flirtatious and sexual touch with the taste of Chinese food in his mouth. The latter was delicious but not sexy. “I love you,” he said softly, giving Dean a warm, lazy smile. “I’m completely terrified about coming out this week, but I’m also really, really excited about it. I’m going to go with you to premieres and kiss you on the red carpet. How fucking amazing is that?”

Feeling practically giddy with the knowledge that Aidan still wanted to come out after a thinking about it for a while, Dean kissed his boyfriend’s nose. “I can’t wait,” he replied. “I know it’s scary, but it’s worth it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Aidan answered. “It is.” He rolled over a little and grabbed a notebook and a pen off the bedside table. “I’m going to work on some stuff to say so that I don’t distract you from eating,” he told the older man, noticing how Dean hadn’t taken a bite since starting to talk. Besides, he honestly did want to plan out what he would say in the part of the press conference where Dean gave him a chance to talk. If he didn’t plan it out, he would just babble or, worse, freeze up and say nothing while people stared. He started scribbling in his notebook, crossing out almost as many sentences as he left on the paper. It turned out that it was very, very difficult to explain his life with Dean and why he wanted to come out. Words were hard. Why couldn’t someone write a script for him for this? He was great with scripts.

Dean was torn between eating quickly so that Aidan would pay attention to him again and make use of his nudity, maybe on the bathroom counter like they’d discussed, and eating slowly to give the Irishman more time to work on his speech. In the end, horniness won out over helpfulness, and he ate efficiently, putting his plate down on the bedside table a little roughly so that it make noise.

When he heard the loud clink of a dish against the wood of the side table, Aidan looked up. He smirked a bit when he realized that Dean was looking at him expectantly. “Want something?” he asked innocently, putting his notebook and pen aside.

“Yeah,” Dean answered simply.

“Okay, morning blowjob it is,” Aidan said cheerfully, yanking the covers down off of Dean, who was clad only in pajama pants, which had a small tent starting to raise at the crotch.

The older man shook his head, grinning. “Remember when we talked about fucking in front of the bathroom mirror yesterday?” he asked, rolling a little to drape his chest over Aidan’s, biting the brunet’s chin gently.

“Fuck,” Aidan groaned softly, his hands coming up around Dean’s hips and dipping beneath his waistband, softly squeezing the top of the New Zealander’s ass. “God, please,” he whispered, starting to push himself up into a sitting position, even as Dean continued to kiss and bite at his skin. “Who do you want on top?” he asked, using his left hand to steady the other man as he started to push them off the bed to walk to the bathroom.

Struggling to walk backwards while still touching and kissing Aidan, who he could feel getting harder and harder against his stomach, Dean stumbled toward the bathroom. “I don’t care, I just want you,” he panted, reaching a hand between their bodies to stroke his boyfriend’s erection. “You’re gorgeous and hot and I’m going to see myself having sex with you, and that’s hot as hell, I don’t care how we do it, I just want to do it now.”

“Christ,” Aidan breathed, not sure how he was supposed to make a decision when all of his blood had left his head and gone south. “I’ll fuck you, and then when we film ourselves, we can film in both ways,” he growled, lifting Dean onto the counter once they were in the bathroom. “That way, when we’re apart, we can watch it either way or both ways when we want to get off.”

“Fuck yes,” Dean panted back, opening his legs wide so that Aidan could get between them. “Babe, I love you, I love looking at you when we fuck, but I can’t see the mirror from here,” he pointed out. “Let me turn around, okay?”

Aidan nodded, backing away from Dean so that the older man could shove his pants down and kick them off and then turn around to lean on the cool countertop, supporting himself on his elbows. “Deano,” he whispered, leaning down and mouthing at his boyfriend’s shoulder while rolling his eyes up to look up at their reflections in the mirror. He was planning to make eye contact with the older man, he really was, but his eyes were instead drawn down to Dean’s crotch, where his cock was hard against his stomach. Eyes glued to the sight, he reached around his boyfriend and curled his hand around the Kiwi’s red erection. “This was a fucking great idea,” he moaned softly.

“We’re geniuses,” Dean agreed, biting his lip and thrusting forward into Aidan’s grip. “There’s lube in the cabinet,” he added, realizing that they needed some to get going with prep. “Come on, babe,” he demanded when Aidan didn’t make a move for it, instead just biting his shoulder and stroking him with a tight grip.

Tearing himself away from Dean for a few precious seconds, Aidan crouched down and opened the cabinet, finding a bottle of lube quickly and standing up with it, kicking the cabinet closed before dumping some lube onto his fingers and pressing one into Dean’s body. The older man gasped and clenched; he always did that, and Aidan never got tired of it. “Fuck, you’re hot,” the Irishman groaned, leaning down to nibble the meat of Dean’s shoulder as he worked his finger around inside of Dean’s body. As soon as he thought his boyfriend could take it, he pulled the single digit out and thrust it in with a second one, biting down a little harder than before as he did so, just so that he could hear Dean cry out. “You want it rough, baby?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, jerking his hips back to ride Aidan’s fingers. “We’re gonna look so hot here, aren’t we?” he muttered, looking up into the mirror at their reflection and gasping as he did so; they were pressed up close together, and it was amazing to see how Aidan’s body fit so perfectly with his own. “Holy shit,” he groaned. “I always see how good you look when we’re fucking, but the two of us together… God,” he muttered, unable to describe how great they looked. Judging by Aidan’s face, reflected in the mirror along with his own, the younger man didn’t need a description; he adored the sight too.

As he spread his fingers inside of his boyfriend, Aidan drew in a shaky breath, clearly trying to compose himself. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he groaned, pulling out his fingers to press a third one in along with the others. “How have we never fucked in front of a mirror before?” he asked breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes from their reflections.

“I don’t know,” Dean gasped back, chewing his lip. He usually kissed Aidan during prep and fucking, and without the younger man’s mouth or skin in front of him, he didn’t have that option. His lip was getting swollen, and he didn’t mind. He was shivering a little as Aidan’s stubble dragged around his neck as he sucked and bit his skin. “Careful at the neck,” he said as he realized something. “I don’t want visible hickeys during the press conference,” he explained, sighing when his boyfriend just moved a few centimeters over and just drew out marks on his shoulder instead of his neck. “I’m ready,” he told the younger man a couple minutes later. “Please.”

With a grin, Aidan slid his fingers out of Dean’s body and slathered the excess lube on his erection, giving himself a little stroke as he did so. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he whispered, holding himself with his right hand and Dean’s hip with his left as he slowly slid in, using practically all of his self-control to keep from driving in too quickly. “You okay, babe?” he asked, painfully aware of the fact that it had been over three months since Dean had had anything inside of him.

“Give me a minute,” Dean replied in a strained voice, clearly struggling.

Aidan pet the older man’s back, pressing loving, soft kisses to the sweaty flesh instead of nipping at it. “Tell me if you need me to pull out,” he whispered, starting to get really worried when Dean was silent for an entire minute. “Babe?”

Below the Irishman, Dean was breathing heavily. “I just need a minute,” he snapped, and then reached back to pet Aidan’s ass apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he said quietly. “This is just really important to me, okay? I can’t stop because I’ve waited for months and I love you and this is hot…”

“Babe,” Aidan said softly, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder. “It’s okay. We can just stay like this for a bit,” he assured the older man, reaching around him to grab his cock, which had deflated nearly completely. “Maybe if I get you hard again, you’ll relax a bit more,” he said, using the little bit of lube that was still on his hand to ease the way as he squeezed his boyfriend’s warm but soft cock, moving the skin around gently over the hardness that began to reppear.

Dean sighed, clearly still a bit upset. “I just wanted this to be perfect,” he explained, tipping his head back onto his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Guess that was a little too much pressure. He sighed again, but this was one of pleasure. “That’s good, babe,” he groaned, jerking his hips forward a tiny bit as Aidan’s hand, feeling himself getting physically and emotionally aroused again.

When his boyfriend moved, Aidan grunted, working hard not to move before Dean was ready. “Fucking love feeling you get hard,” he whispered, shuddering a little as Dean’s cock jerked and flexed in his hand. “Fuck, yeah,” he added as the older man squeezed around him, panting a bit. “Oh, God.”

“I’m… try moving,” Dean muttered, gasping when Aidan did so. “Oh!” he cried out, reaching behind himself to grab his boyfriend’s ass. “Yeah!” He started to thrust back against the younger man, realizing after a few glorious thrusts that he wasn’t making use of the mirror. Groaning loudly, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, and looked into the mirror.

His gaze slid to Aidan first, seeing everything he could in the reflection. The younger man gripped Dean tightly—on the left shoulder and the right hip—and his chest was visible, as he stood straight while Dean leaned over. His face made Dean’s breath catch. With his bottom lip between his teeth, the Irishman was staring at the mirror as well, clearly very, very into the view.

From Aidan, Dean’s gaze moved to his own face, and he went from moaning arousal to making uncomfortable noises in his throat, shoving Aidan’s hand off his shoulder and trying to turn away without even giving the younger man time to pull out.

“Ow!” Aidan grunted, Dean’s turn sending pain shooting through his groin. He moved as quickly as possible to give his boyfriend room, but he tried to position himself so that Dean couldn’t flee without at least telling him he wanted or needed to leave. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, approaching the older man cautiously before embracing him, giving him ample time to move away or say something if he didn’t want the contact. “Deano, it’s okay,” he whispered.

Pressing his face into Aidan’s warn, hairy chest, Dean just shook his head, gasping a little for air as he tried to keep himself from hyperventilating or crying. “I’m…” he tried after a minute, realizing that the heartbeat he could hear in Aidan’s chest was racing in stress. “My head.”

“Pain?” Aidan asked, holding Dean up and stepping back from him to look at his face for signs of pain. He mostly just saw misery, and pulled his boyfriend close again, petting through that small amount of hair that had grown back since the surgery. “We’ll get some painkillers, okay?”

Dean shook his head against Aidan’s chest, and then stepped back, sighing. “The scar,” he explained softly. “I saw it, and… how the fuck am I still supposed to feel hot when there’s a giant purple _thing_ across my head? I’m just… maybe I need more sleep.”

“Babe,” Aidan called softly as Dean walked past him. “Babe, talk to me,” he begged, watching sadly as the older man tugged on pajama pants, lay down in bed, and tugged a sheet up over his head. “Dean, you don’t have to have sex yet. You sure as hell don’t have to have sex in front of a mirror yet. Or ever,” he added, dropping onto the bed and rubbing Dean’s shoulder through the thin cloth that lay over him. “I mean, it’s a hot idea, but that doesn't mean we have to do it. It can just be a fantasy, or something we don’t think about again.” He paused, hoping he would hear something in return, or at least get a nod or shake of the head. “Dean, can you just make a noise so I know you’re still conscious.”

Feeling a little defeated, since it was clear that he couldn't hide and hope Aidan would go away, Dean pulled the sheet down so that his head and shoulders were exposed. “I thought after the surgery everything would just be better right away,” he explained quietly, looking up at the ceiling instead of making eye contact with the younger man. “And it wasn't. But then everything could be better when I got home, right? You kissed me without my bandana on when I was at the hospital, so I thought I was fine with everything. If he still kisses me and wants me, why would I be upset about the scar? But I’m not okay with it and it’s vain and immature but I hate the damn thing.”

Before answering, Aidan sprawled out on the bed next to Dean, snuggling into the Kiwi’s side and hoping it was as comforting as he meant it to be. “It’s not vain,” he began slowly, “or if it is, it’s the kind of vain everyone is. Nobody in the world is going to blame you if you feel shitty about the scar.” He craned his neck to press a soft kiss behind Dean’s ear. “Look, I know how badly you wanted it to be an easy ‘fix’ or whatever, but it’s a process. Recovery sucks, and after the physical part there’s everything else. There’s getting used to a giant scar on your forehead, there’s getting used to a life you’ve never had. You’ve never been an adult without severe epilepsy, and you’re going to be navigating that when you’re over thirty. Everything is going to be weird, and probably slow,” he finished. “I guess that isn’t uplifting, but I’m here for all of that.” He groaned softly. “Oh, my God, I’m fucking awful at this. Let me just shut my mouth.”

Dean hadn’t thought he would feel any better anytime soon, but Aidan’s awkward little end put a small smile on his face. “Love you,” he whispered, turning his head to rest his chin on top of Aidan’s curls. “You didn’t make everything all better, but you made this little thing suck less.” He grinned a little more. “I think I can deal with the ‘weird’ of adult life without severe epilepsy. Oh, man, not seizing multiple times a day, being more independent, not pissing myself in the supermarket… how will I cope?”

“I just meant it’ll feel weird,” Aidan retorted, nudging Dean teasingly. “It’ll be better, obviously, but really different. It’s probably gonna feel more free, I guess, but it might take some time to figure out how frequently you’re going to seize now…” He paused when the older man sighed unhappily. “Dean, babe, I love you, and I know your life is going to be better now, but the reality is that you’re still going to have seizures. They won’t be as bad or as frequent, but you’ll still have them.”

“I know,” Dean said softly. “I’m scared for this week and our vacation, because I’m just biding my time until I seize again. I guess it is kind of weird. Before, I could always count on seizing a few times a week, and it’s scary not having any idea of when this could happen. How fucking weird is it that I’m somehow more worried now?”

“Mm, well, I can be here to distract you from that,” Aidan promised, kissing his boyfriend’s neck. “I’ll just curl up with you all day,” he explained, kissing a little lower on Dean’s neck, “and be happy as hell that you’re home and safe.”

Dean wrapped his arm around Aidan’s shoulders, sighing a little happily as the brunet continued to kiss him. “I know I’ve been needy a lot lately,” he said softly, continuing before Aidan could interrupt, “and that’s okay. That’s what happens sometimes. I feel like I need to tell you that I love you and… this is going to sound really weird, but I’ll say it anyway. I’d love you even if I weren’t sick.” When Aidan just stared at him, clearly confused, he tried to find a way to explain what he meant. “You’ve been so supportive, and you’ve always been there doing things to help me get through epilepsy and depression. You have done so much, but I’d love you just as much even if I had never been sick and you’d never done any of that because there was never any need. Is this making any sense? I don’t just love you because you’ve helped me with being sick. I love you because you’re sweet and funny and loving and interesting and beautiful and… my whole world.”

“I love you too,” Aidan said quietly. He had never worried that Dean’s loved was based on the fact that he helped, but it was always nice to hear the reasons that he was loved being listed by the one who loved him. “All I want is for you to be happy,” he continued. “So you can always stop anything we’re doing. Sex, cooking, watching TV… if something bothers you, just tell me and we’ll stop. Nothing that either of us can control should make you so upset if it can be avoided.” He kissed Dean’s neck again, feeling domestic and happily in love despite a rough time just a few minutes earlier. “I just really, really love you, and I want you to be happy.”

An honest, emotional smile on his face, Dean turned over and squirmed around a little so that he was face-to-face with Aidan. “Remember the first time you told me that you loved me?” he asked softly, nostalgic and happy. “I had taken you out stargazing, but it rained, and we were sitting in your car and eating sandwiches. I kept saying I was sorry for getting you to drive an hour with me just to get rained out, and you told me it was still a good night, because you loved me.”

“You didn’t say it back right away, I remember that too,” Aidan teased, picking up the story, feeling warm and cozy inside just remembering all of this. “You kissed me and called me beautiful and snuggled in the driver’s seat with me until the rain passed, but you didn't say it back. I kind of liked that, because it felt honest when you told me you loved me. It was, what, two weeks later? I was tired and grouchy at the end of a long day, and you just came in while I was changing out of costumes, and all you said was ‘I love you too’ and I was happy.” He paused, feeling very open at that moment. “I didn’t understand what it meant to fall in love until I met you,” he whispered, and found himself hugged tight to Dean’s chest.


End file.
